The Mystery of the Run Away Red Head
by FreakyWeird
Summary: Downworld is stirring, and when downworlders get anxious, they do rash things. The Hunters, a goverment agency designed to police downworld, is even more worried than the downworlders when a desserter shows up dead. OOC/Lemonade/Actiony
1. Chapter 1Prologe

**This is my first story, no idea what to do. I'm typing this into word, saving it, and seeing if i can upload it. if there is any error's, oh well. Live with it because i have absolutely no idea what I'm doing and it's the adventures in my head that your reading, or testing. **

**Before you ask, no i do not own the mortal instruments and never will, which is a shame because I'm pretty sure Cassandra Clare is rich. **

**Well then, if this doesn't upload, I'm gunna feel like a right fool but oh well. **

**Prologue**

Jace had been described as beautiful. Jace had been described as sexy. Jace had been described as charming.

But not once had Jace been described as 'a pompous, nosy, big-headed, intrusive git.'

The day before he met the accuser he found out about her. His job involved five world-wide cults, one of which he belonged. One of which was funded and formed by the government who still runs it. It's like a less formal CIA, certainly less qualified.

The vampires were one of the most widely known. They didn't exactly have an opinion on anything, nor a motto, nor a point that they wanted to make. Most people in the cult had joined unwillingly, press-ganged if you will. When Jace had asked them why they didn't just leave, they just shrugged, not giving him a reason and just saying something vaguely like, 'I'm in now, I might as well as just deal with it.'

The werewolves were widely known, but were isolated. Like the vampires, they stayed together in clumps and groups. Their policy was more primal. If you can beat the leader then you are the leader. The people in the groups followed the leader without a second question. They were very private and over the years of their existence they have had several different political aims, but because of their caveman way of voting none of these aims seemed to be related.

The warlocks were some of the most criminal. They lived in quite solitary lives, not in society but to each other, each and every one of them worked for their opinions, but was proud to say they belonged to the Warlocks. If a warlock met a warlock in a political battle and realised that they both belonged to the warlock cult, they would call it a moot point and give up their arguments or pass in onto someone else. However they were famous for hosting wild parties and selling and taking drugs.

A thing that the Fairies were famous for, these had the most power in the 60's when it was 'all about free love'. They were responsible for rallies and protests about most things. Peace and war, that was them, the Catholic Church, that was them. They seemed to be orientated around a leader who they called queen or king and these royalties organised several events like protests. The members were all somehow related to another member, Jace had yet to meet a member who wasn't new or related to someone else who was in there.

Finally was Jace's cult, the hunter's. The government were concerned about the four cults. They followed the law, but when one of them broke the law or they waged cult war, they didn't like the media getting on it and nosing into their cults business. So they hired people to solve it. Generally, they hired cops gone bad and blackmailed people up on death row. The hunters were hired to keep the peace and to solve any crimes in the or between the cults and to keep it quiet. To make sure that the police didn't dive into their cults and the hunters did instead. The downworlder's didn't seem to mind. To the downworlder's, the hunters were just a nuisance, but they were better than the police. To the hunters, either cult was neutral until one was prove guilty. The hunters didn't just up hold normal societal law in the cults, but the law of the cults involved. They also proved who was guilty and took them down.

The government called this status the downworld. Jace guessed it was, these cult members didn't consider themselves part of this society, while they followed the law they also followed the law in their cults. Also, these cults were extremely private, and anyone who didn't belong in any cult, namely the police, was not welcome in their lives.

So that was why Jace was so shocked when his office phone rang.

He picked up the black plastic phone, "Mr. Herondale speaking."

"Hello Mr. Herondale," Jace froze when he heard the voice, he had to be in deep trouble to be talking to this person, "its Inquisitor speaking." The inquisitor was his boss. She was also a relative of his, his grandmother to be precise. Even though he had never met her until he got the job, they didn't see eye to eye.

Jace closed his eyes, begging for his bravado to stay in place, he hated it when his character slipped and he showed he was scared or kind, "yeah?" he answered coolly, despite the fact his palms were sweaty, "what could _I_ possibly accomplish for the amazing and unstoppable Inquisitor?"

He heard a sigh from the other end of the phone, "Jonathan, stop being so absurd. You know for a fact that you are one of the best hunters the government have," Jace noticed that she didn't say that he was under her employment, "but there's a case that has come in, and you're the last available person since you have refused to take up any assignment since the reports came in."

Jace smirked in the phone, "I just thought that I would be better waiting for a major assignment instead of dealing with a wacko warlock who's been caught by the mundie's doing drugs." The mundane were the normal societal folk who were ignorant of the four cults because they weren't features on the BBC news website.

"Yes well, I think this case will stretch your abilities. I need you to work on a case. A hunter Jocelyn Morgenstern was found dead this morning," Jace glanced at the clock and frowned. It was 9:34am, it was still morning, "we suspect she was a rotten apple, although, we do have cause for concern..."

Jace was still frowning and murmured, "Morgenstern, Morgenstern. Where have I heard that before?"

Jace swore he could hear the inquisitor's teeth grinding, she hissed at him, "You fool! Valentine! She was Valentine Morgenstern's wife!"

Jace paled, he remembered now. Valentine tried to get to the root of the problem...the cults. He had this crazy theory that by killing every member and scrap of evidence that the cult's existed, then the world would be peaceful.

The inquisitor presumed Jace's silence was realisation and carried on, "We have been looking for her for a while. She was a deserter, god knows why. She was born into the hunters but she wasn't really significant. I never met her but from what I've heard she wasn't really consequential. So, are you up for the job?"

Jace was realising something alright. The inquisitor knew this was major, never before had a hunter been killed purposely by the cults. Why would they when hunters kept the peace? Whatever Jocelyn had done, it was bad enough that she convinced one of the cults that the police were better than the hunters and that they no longer wanted peace. These were actions to cause war; they were trying to motivate the hunters into declaring war against a cult. A one hot shot way to do so was kill one of our members.

Three hours later Alec threw a folder onto Jace's desk and said, "She had a daughter!" Jace looked up in surprise; he picked up the folder and flicked through it. It was horribly brief, Clarissa had never registered for a passport, only had one school...yep, and all the generic stuff was there, not even all, the bare minimum.

Then half an hour later, Isabelle came in and slapped a folder down onto his desk and exclaimed, "She had a daughter!"

Jace sighed, "Well done dizzy Izzy. Your brother already found out, didn't he tell you?"

Isabelle scowled, "No he did not!"

Right at that moment Alec walked in with another frustratingly slim folder in his hands, "I'm presuming you're talking about me, I didn't do what?"

Isabelle spun on him, her long black hair swishing round as she did so, "You didn't tell me that you had already found out about her kid."

Alec shrugged, "Must have slipped my mind." Isabelle huffed and crossed her arms, Jace knew why. Alec never forgot anything, he must be paying her back for a fight they had earlier. Jace frowned; he could not have his partners in crime be fighting with each other when they were working on a case that was too big for them. The sole reason the inquisitor gave them the case was so that they made complete fools out of themselves making a mess out of the assignment and having the satisfaction of swooping in and saving their butts.

Jace sighed, he would go to hell before his granny saved his butt, instead of saying that he asked Alec, "What have you got?"

A little V shaped formed on Alec's forehead as he scowled at the offending folder and just passed it to Jace. Jace opened the folder, his eyebrows rising upwards in shock. It was Clarissa Fairchild, but a completely different identity. He looked at the one Isabelle had put together; it seemed that this Clarissa Fairchild was on the run from something...or someone.

**So, what do you think? I have seen that message after every other fanfic I read and I didn't want to be the odd one out, :-{D**

**If you reckon that i should just cut my losses while i can please say so. I want people to read and enjoy it, thus the reason i put it on fanfic, but if nobody ain't gunna read it i might as well as not write, right?**

**I know that it is a lot along the actual plot, but i ain't gunna make this Valentine related. Im just writing it as it come's along. This is just a prologue; the chapter's i will do will be much longer. **

**FW :-{D **


	2. Chapter 2Don't Keep Him Hangin'

**So, it's been what? Five minutes since i posted the prologue on, but if i don't write i will forget. So what can i say? Or, what can i say that you'll believe. I am happy you're reading the second chapter, (if you count the prologue as a chapter) because that means you're intrigued. I can't rightly remember if i pegged this story as a mystery (once my mum spelt is mistery. I was just horrified, i assure you, she isn't retarded.) But if i did i hope you are intrigued. If you isn't, thanks for carrying on reading! Ha! So, here i type...**

**I almost forgot, i don't own the mortal instruments Cassandra Clare does, also, the only reason i'm putting a disclaimer here is because ive seen it on other story's, so i need to remember to put it on?**

Jace walked into the huge room, hearing the soft steps of Alec and Isabelle which were muffled by the plush carpet they were walking on, flanking him. Jace frowned, he had thought that their target was an artist, and it was his belief that they had just barged into her studio, who in their right mind painted when they were stood on carpet? He couldn't imagine the mess.

He walked in; the PA tailing them stopped his threats and huffed in silence. Jace stopped and looked around, it was if he had walked into a nightmare, with ghosts everywhere. Huge big white sheets were covering what looked like squat square pillars. Music echoed off the ceiling that was high over their heads, it was some sort of indie rock. He didn't have much time for music.

Jace, the PA, Alec and Isabelle walked through the path that seemed to wind through the endless maze of white throw sheets. As they rounded a corner Jace saw her for the first time. She stood stretching to reach the top of the huge canvas she was painting on. Beside her on a table was a laptop which was connected to a printer and speakers. The laptop was currently on YouTube.

If Alec's research proved right, which it always had, this was a Miss Clarissa Fairchild. She was wearing scruffy black army boots which the pants of her overalls were tucked into. Her bright flame orange hair was pulled into a quick ponytail, and a few strands had red paint on, magnifying the appearance that her head was actually on fire. She was an artist and she was the head of a major advertising firm that she built from scraps. Jace had been shocked by her mere age of 22, people did say that it took a life time to build a reputation and a second to demolish it, but when he saw the canvas she was painting on he knew that it was talent that had paid her good fortune, not luck as he had originally thought.

Alec and Isabelle researched their target thoroughly, uncovering not three, not four but ten different identities of the girl. Each nine of the identities had disappeared or had met a sticky end, each time the body was burned and her ashes scattered. This girl was not just a business woman; she was a master in disappearing or faking her own untimely deaths. Jace had been horrified at the fact that the girl hadn't even bothered to change her first name, since everyone she knew before she changed her identity thought she was dead. She had managed to keep her current identity for the last four years which allowed her to settle down. Jace confronted some people about it at work. He distinctly remembered the inquisitor telling him they had been looking for Jocelyn, so why hadn't they realised that ten of the results that came up with the last name Fairchild were the same person. They told him that the search engine didn't show thumbnails, and only showed people with the same first and last name.

Ever since Jace had upped is game and was really pushing Alec and Isabelle to their limits. They said that if they heard Jace mutter about incompetence at work one more time they would break their partnership and work solo, leaving Jace to do his own research.

Jace frowned at the work Clarissa was doing, it seemed less of a painting and more of a portfolio; pictures had been stuck on as well as many objects like a necklace and the pom-poms. There were a few key words but there was no speech. This was clearly meant to be a presentation of the ideas she had for the company who was interested in her services.

He sighed in frustration, when Alec had passed him the details of their new target it had been suspiciously clean and vague. Now seeing her, his suspicions heightened. He wasn't so sure why. The woman was small, petite. She was an artist, not a drug dealer. Her talent was creative; you just needed the skill to draw a line, not that much brain power used. So how could she disappear without a trace? How could she build up a successful business within a short span of three and a half years?

Cunning, she must have inherited cunning from her family.

His sigh alerted her to their presence, even though they had only been there a few seconds, waiting for her to notice them. Her whole body tensed. She put the pallet and brush on the desk and turned the music off. She turned around.

Jace watched as shock went from disbelief, disbelief to anger across her face.

She glared at Jace and snapped, "Simon! Why are these strangers in my studio?" she spun around and pulled a dust sheet down that had been framing the canvas. On the stand the canvas was stood on there were two brackets over hanging the painting so that when the dust sheet fell down, it missed the canvas completely and it looked like a big square block.

Jace realised that under every white dust sheet there were paintings and presentations. Jace couldn't believe the sheer number of them, it was like a forest. He felt a small tug at his gut and an urge to compliment her.

"They barged in like it was no one's business and that we don't have a reputation to uphold. It was extremely rude!" Simon huffed.

Clarissa squared her shoulders and put her hands on her hips, "Excuse me," she yelled, putting sass into it, "but who exactly do you think you are?"

Alec interjected as I opened my mouth to yell back, he stepped forward and put a hand on my arm, he said, "I'm sorry Miss Fairchild to have interrupted you but it is a matter of urgency."

Clarissa stared at him like he was an alien, "Urgency? Urgency! Why do you think I care about what you are rushing for? I am working here! I have deadlines to meet and contracts to keep up and you being in this very room is me breaking my contract! Simon, show these intruders to my office. Don't bother asking for drinks, they'll just steal the ones from the workers."

Jace shrugged of Alec angrily; he didn't know what the big deal was, "Hey! We may be intruders but we are not thieves! How dare you accuse-,"

"Oh shut it!" Clarissa snapped. This infuriated Jace more, no one had ever cut him off like that before, "go to my office where we may talk like professionals! I'll be two minuets!"

Jace felt the pressure of Alec's hand on his fore arm and allowed himself to be tugged along. With his jaw clenched Jace let the PA, Simon, lead them out. They walked out of the hall and through the double doors that led to the communal office space. It was a soothing room, plum walls, beige luxury carpet, famous paintings on the wall. It was much personalised. The room had around two dozen dark wood desks, everyone at their computers were glaring at the three hunters. This made Jace's anger spike.

He gave them all of them his signature glare and was satisfied to see most of them look away.

They walked into Clarissa's office. The walls were lined with paintings; they weren't famous paintings like the ones in the room outside, but just as beautiful. Most of them were landscapes, cities and countryside's. There was the odd one or two that was a jewel or a flower. The paintings seemed to flow, and they were similar in style to the presentation that he saw Clarissa working on, he wondered if she had painted them. The desk, dark wood, looked like an antique; the big winged armchair had its back to the huge window overlooking the park outside.

Jace was shocked by the state of the desk itself. The computer was perched on one corner, over hanging a bit. The rest of the desk was covered in many pieces of paper. They had splotched blobs of paint on, some of it was paperwork, and some of it was sketches. Pens and pencils littered the desk, along with the odd paintbrush or two. Jace thought of his own office desk, immaculate and tidy. There was rarely anything out of place.

Simon gestured to the two chairs facing the desk, Jace and Alec sat in them while Isabelle lounged on the couch behind them. Simon followed Clarissa's instructions and didn't bother offering them a drink. Jace thought he'd ask, just to take the mick, but then the long door opened and Clarissa came gliding in, still wearing her paint stained overalls and looking very angry.

She walked behind her desk and put her laptop case down. She looked at Simon, "I'll take a strong coffee, one sugar, and heck, make it three." Simon nodded; they locked eyes for a second.

Jace looked away, Jesus, what was wrong with him? Had he seriously just felt jealous because they shared a look that said so much and yet didn't speak a word?

Yes, yes he had.

God he was going soft! Why would he want to speak to someone without actually speaking? If anything it was over rated, making goo-goo eyes with your girlfriend. But something told him that these two weren't seeing each other like that, that look wasn't all soft and mushy, it was a warning.

Suddenly the room was charged with tension. Simon turned to leave and Jace heard Isabelle sigh behind him, "I'll take one of those, but just one sugar, thanks."

Alec next to him stated the same but Jace declined. With the glare Simon the PA was giving him, he wouldn't drink anything he had made, ever.

He left and Jace, Alec and Isabelle focused on their target. She narrowed her eyes at them, which made her look even more beautiful and said, "I'll have you know that one of the main reasons I have my clients is because of my contracts. Only I and the heads of the departments get to see the advertising ideas we have, hence the fact that every one of my canvases are covered! You have just cost me thousands because you saw what I was working on, it's illegal for me to not to tell the company I am working for and if they do press charges I could lose hundreds of thousands!"

Jace's jaw dropped. What was the point in it? It was just adverts; its intention was to get as many people seeing it and get them buying the products. Alec stammered, "I, I, sorry, we, err, well we didn't know you could lose so much."

Clarissa gave him an exasperated look, she just said coldly, "Clearly."

This wasn't why they were here; Jace took over, "Miss Fairchild, we come from a special agency called The Hunters. When there are certain...circumstances crimes are committed we are called in to help. Do you know a –,"

"Bull shit." Once again, the small red head had cut him off.

"Excuse me?" Isabelle answered; she didn't say it because she was horrified at the fact Clarissa just swore, Isabelle swore all the time. Jace understood why, he had not pegged Clarissa as the crude or blunt type. He hadn't even pegged her as the bold type. She wasn't what she looked like, for some strange reason, he seemed to like it.

"You heard me," Clarissa sassed, "bull shit. You aren't exactly the James Bond types and to be quite frank, I've never heard of a special agency called The Hunters. Here, if you can show me some real ID I'll hear you out." She stopped as Simon came back holding a tray with three big mugs of coffee, a jug of milk, a pot of sugar and spoons on. He set the tray on the desk balancing it on the stacks of paper and Clarissa told him, "Take Helga, Frank and Dean to canvas three. There should be instructions for them there. They have two weeks."

Simon nodded and shot Alec and Jace a glare before he left. Jace couldn't help but get the feeling that Simon was telling them, 'she's mine.' Jace frowned, clearly with the way Clarissa had treated him, the feeling was unrequited. He smirked, Jace thought that the guy could stick around as long as he liked, but he still doubted he was going to get any.

Once he left and Clarissa took a big gulp of her coffee she carried on from where she left off, "As I was saying, if you show me some real ID, I'll hear you out. But there is no guarantee I'll help or believe you in this 'urgent matter'." Clarissa didn't use air quotations, but Jace could tell that she wanted to. This was one temperamental girl.

In the corner of his eye Jace saw Alec glance at him. They hadn't ever been ID'd before. Either this girl already knew about the cults or she was naturally suspicious. From this point, he thought it was probably both. He reached into his jacket and brought out his wallet. He looked through the several pockets before he saw the little plastic square that could possibly make Clarissa take them seriously. He passed it to her and Alec did the same. Isabelle got up of the couch and came to stand in the middle of Jace and Alec's chairs. She tossed her ID onto Clarissa's desk and then grabbed her cup of coffee.

One by one Clarissa examined them, levelling them out, running her nails over them, looking them under her desk light and then in the light that came slanted through the window. Jace wasn't too sure what they proved but they looked like general things you would do if you were checking if an ID was real or not.

Clarissa pursed her lips and then nodded once curtly.

So Jace started, "A few days ago we found one of our members dead. She had been murdered; the post-mortem is due to come back yet. She was called Jocelyn Morgenstern." Jace watched the person he was addressing carefully. She had a frown on her face, but that had been etched there ever since she heard that a woman had shown up dead. Jace clenched his fists at his knees, this girl was just unnerving. He looked into her eyes, they were closed off, and he couldn't read them.

He huffed and struggled to break eye contact. He managed to glance at Alec who was looking at Clarissa and then he glanced at Jace. He was concocting suspicions in his head, Jace could tell due to the dark shade of blue his eyes. Unlike Clarissa, Alec was a person Jace could read.

"Well," Clarissa's voice cut through Jace's musings, "is that all you have to say?"

Jace made sure not to look into her eyes again, he looked back to Clarissa and smirked. What could he say? It was instinctive. "Usually we would give a case like this to a less experienced Hunter, but there are several things strange with this case. The first is the fact that no one has come forward to stake the claim. This is an act of war, but the motivations aren't clear. The second is the fact that Jocelyn is a deserter. She tried to cover her tracks of being a Hunter and did it successfully, until someone killed her." Again he noted Clarissa's response. "The third is that our initial suspicions could be wrong and that none of our suspects committed this crime."

"There is a state that the government call downworld, where world wide...cults collide. The thing wrong is that downworld is stirring. When downworld is anxious they do rash things. Things that can get a lot of people killed quite easily. It's the Hunters job to stop that happening. So we did the general background check on Jocelyn Morgenstern to see what motive we could guess. Or should I say Jocelyn Fairchild. We found out that she had a daughter. So we looked into this daughter and found that she had several different identities, can you help us with that?" Clarissa was still expressionless.

She opened her mouth to say something but someone walked in. The new girl was quite ruff around the edges, her hair in a small ponytail, a t-shirt that said YOU CAN'T HELP BUT LOSE. She started talking the moment she came in, "Clary girl you have to hear this...oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know you were in a meeting. I thought that you were supposed to be in the studio today."

Clarissa waved a hand and stood up, "it's okay Maia. I can't help them anyway." Her voice had an odd dead tone, she went and hugged Maia.

But as Jace was watching them he saw a flash of black in the corner of his eye. He frowned and looked out the window. Nothing was there. But Isabelle next to him muttered, "I swear I just saw..."

Alec murmured, "It can't be?"

Jace decided that when they have these types of conversations, which they did often when they found out a revelation, it was best not to interrupt them. They get to the answer quicker if you leave the question unasked. Jace stood up and walked to the window.

Maia and Clarissa had stopped their conversation and were paying them their attention instead.

After the first flash of black came the next more slowly, and then another. It was outside. Jace realised what it was and froze at what he saw. He glanced up. There was a demolishing site just around the corner from the building, they had passed it on their way here, but the crane had moved around and was facing the opposite way. The big black demolishing ball had been replaced by a man, and strapped to the man, if Jace's eyes were indeed not fooling him, was a big machine gun.

It was a stunt only the foolish, insane, determined or Jace would try. The odds of getting the right length of chain, and then the swing, and then the chances of the gun staying strapped to you. There were too many factors that could kill you, hurt you or make you shoot the wrong person. This was planned and now it was being executed.

He watched incredulously as the swinging man settled and slowly spun around. Jace was now surrounded by Alec, Isabelle, Clarissa, Maia and Simon had popped up out of nowhere and had joined them.

Alec asked, "Err, Jace? What are you doing?" Jace had taken that moment to lie down on the floor on his stomach with his arms covering his head.

Jace looked up to see everyone looking at him weirdly. Jace sighed, "Are you just going to stand there and be a clear target?"

They carried on looking at him like he was weird until the sound of the machine gun started and the wall shook. They all dived down in time to hear the glass shatter. Jace covered his head with his arms again and felt somebody hit the floor next to him. Both he and the person next to him were showered with glass. He felt the shards cut into his arms.

The shooting stopped and he glanced up. Clarissa was curled up into a foetal position with her arms covering her head. Alec called, "Anyone shot?"

"Always the optimist Alec," I replied.

A chorus of no's rang out. The office was a mess of plaster, glass, wood, canvas and computer. Only the middle on the room had been affected. The worst of it was what you could see through the window, although to Jace's surprise some bullets had made it through the wall. That was one damn powerful gun. He wanted one.

Beside him Clary shot up and ran to the canvasses that hadn't been damaged and started throwing them off the walls. Jace rolled onto his knee's and yelled, "Are you crazy, this guys going to start shooting again in-," he glanced out of the window to see the slowly spinning man coming to face the building again, he shouted, "hit the floor!"

No sooner he had said that then the shooting began again, Clarissa, the stupid nostalgic Clarissa, shrieked and hit the floor again. Strangely, Jace felt an indulgence to her. These paintings must have meant a lot to her to put her life in danger so that they weren't damaged. No doubt she was the target for the attacks.

Crap! Since when had he, Jace Herondale, began understanding other people!

He had a moment to reflect that he had been questioning himself a lot today while the room he was in was slowly being destroyed by a machine gun. When the shooting once again stopped Jace signalled to Isabelle and Alec to get the hell out of there. He said that if Maia and Simon didn't follow to leave them but to get Clarissa out.

He glanced at Clarissa; she was still taking her damn pictures off the wall! Jace started crawling to her and he asked, "What the hell are you doing?"

She gave him that look saying, 'my office is being shot to bits, don't mess with me.' Jace sighed, the indulgence coming up again. Usually he would have dragged her kicking and screaming out of the place, instead he stood up and ran to grab the three remaining untouched canvases on the opposite side of the room, _away _from the door. He heard Isabelle yell, "Jace! What in the world are you doing!" she screamed it so loud her voice turned hoarse.

Jace glanced at her, she was on her knees at the doorway, Simon was behind her, waiting for Clarissa who had one of the canvasses and was looking desperately around for anything else salvageable. Jace glanced at the spinning man; he was nearly facing them again. He yelled, "Peg it!" and bounded across the room. Clarissa slithered through the doorway just as the shooting started again. He dove through the doorway and landed on his back panting in the communal office space.

Jace sat up to see Isabelle and Alec looking at him as if he'd grown an extra pair of arms in his neck. Adrenaline still coursed through his veins and a grin slowly spread its way across his face. He sighed and said, "How exhilarating was that!"

Shock crossed each and every one of their faces all except Alec. Alec crossed his arms and quietly muttered, "Oh how predictable. We nearly die and Jace goes for a high trip by getting _paintings. _But the question really is," he turned to Clarissa, "why someone had a shoot out at your office?"

Jace could hear the gears turning as Clarissa's head, she replied immediately, "Excuse me?" god the girl rocked the sass, "How do you know that _I _was the target. No body's ever had a 'shoot out'," this time she did use the air quotations, "at my office before _you,_" she prodded Alec in the chest, it was quite amusing. Alec towered over the tiny woman, to see him hurt and shocked looking at this tiny angry girl was hilarious, "barged into my office!"

Isabelle yelled, "Hey! You do realise that when we went into that office there were loads of people in here and there aren't anymore." Everyone stopped and looked around at the abandoned room.

"Well, I think that I would go run away if a machine gun was destroying the next room," Jace said thoughtfully.

Isabelle replied, "Something doesn't feel right," she shook her head, "I think we should get out of here." With that they looked to Jace who was still lying on the floor propped up on his elbows watching them with a grin spread across his face. Shooting started again in the office. They all ducked onto their hands and knees.

When the shooting stopped Clarissa said, "We're seriously expecting a pompous, nosy, big-headed, intrusive git like him to get us out of here?"

Jace feigned flattery and waved his hand in front of his face blinking, "Oh, you know me so well!"

Then Maia said, "Do you smell that?" they all stopped talking and started sniffing. Jace thought that they all would get an A* if this was a drama class and they were supposed to be playing curious dogs. Maia carried on and said, "It smells like..." she sniffed some more, "smoke."

For the love of all that was holy she was right. This day literally couldn't get any better.

**I did plan on making this longer, but then when i was writing this bit, i thought, 'hey, this is a great cliff hanger!' **

**Right, bare with me when i say it's a mystery, because i really do mean it to be a mystery, i just haven't read anything from the mystery genre so if you have and don't think it's a mystery can you tell me? don't ask me why i'm writing a mystery when i haven't read any mystery's because i honestly do not know. Its my imagination getting away and imagining things i don't have the skills to do but my imaginations boss, what are you gunna do? *shrugs* **

**When i started to write this, i didn't realise that Jace was such a difficult character to do a POV from. Cassandra Clare, how did you do it? if you think he should be a bit more arrogant and you say. Pwease? I'd prefer reviews that say, 'jace isn't jace, change him' than ones that say 'jace is spot on!' when your really thinking 'i couldn't imagine jace thinking that'.**

**I am shocked that ive wrote this so fast but i have a cold so im bored out of my mind from the limited things i want to do on this dull Saturday. The things i want to do include anything i don't have to get up for. So i grabbed my laptop and typed! **

**Guess what i found out when i turned it on? People had put my story up for alert! I am truly flattered! Also, i just wanted to ask, is flattery a word or have i added it to my dictionary in my quest to invent new words? **

**FW :-{D**

**P.S. awww, i forgot how tasty Dolmio's pasta sauces could be, mmmmmmmm. *homer simpson drool***


	3. Chapter 3Fire Fire Fire

Clary stared at Jace uncomprehending. She had never wanted to smack someone so badly.

She didn't know what it was about him, maybe it was that smug smirk or the infuriating things that came out of his mouth.

But what scared her about him most was that gleam in his eye when their lives had been at risk, the way he enjoyed the rush of danger, the split second chances, and the challenge of action.

It was almost too much to bear.

"You have to be kidding me. But the building can't be on fire, we didn't hear the alarm!" Clary was desperately trying to prove that the smell wafting towards them, getting stronger with every second, wasn't the warning of imminent flames, smoke.

Once they had poked their head out of a shotgun free window and realised that the bottom floor of Clary's three story business building was on fire and quickly spreading they decided to buck it. Simon was leading them down a corridor to the fire exit and no one had interrupted Clary as she continued to deny the fact that not only had her office been shot to smithereens, but it was also going up in smoke.

Unfortunately, as Clary carried on, Jace, who had been strutting in front of her, whirled around and dropped the canvasses to put his huge hands on her shoulders. They weighed down her skinny shoulders like two heavy bags. He muttered, "Stop it. There is no point in denying it, the alarm must be broke, or the bullets have destroyed it. But someone is trying to _kill you. _How hard is that to understand? We need to get out of here without anyone seeing us and without leaving a trail." He ducked his head and his golden eyes challenged her green ones fiercely. He emphasised each syllable when he said, "Do-you-und-er-stand?"

Well, Clary thought, no better chance than this. Her hand flew in a blurry motion and her palm cracked across Jace's cheek, leaving a huge red mark behind. Her shoulders felt amazingly light as the pressure of Jace's heavy hands left their perch and he took a step back. He put a hand up to his face in shock.

Clary smiled devilishly, "I know I look all weak and pathetic, but trust me, I'm not." The sound of skin hitting skin and the crack of violence had made her come to, though, her building was on fire, and even if they did make it to a fire escape soon they were going to be assassinated by whoever decided to play target practice with her office. With that she picked up the two canvasses Jace had dropped and turned to the opposite way they were going.

Isabelle yelled after her, "Where are you going? The elevator doesn't work!"

Clary carried on walking and then heard the hurried steps after her. Clary told them, "If one of us is on the hit list," she paused to see if anyone would contradict her, "then they'll be watching the fire exits now won't they?"

Maia said, "Please don't tell me we are taking the stairs."

All of them reached the lobby then. Two elevators were facing them, both of the floor numbers flashing. To the right the stairs led up to the roof, to the left they led down stairs. Small tendrils of smoke were trailing up the stairs, Clary said, "We need to hurry."

The air became harder to breathe in and less clear when they raced down the stairs to the second floor. At the second floor lobby the air was thick and the heat was becoming more and more intense. Clary led them through the main corridor facing the elevator. Under the carpet smoke started pouring through the cracks in the floor boards.

Simon yelled, "Spread out, our weight needs to be distributed. Within a few minutes this corridor is going to be ash." So they went single file. Clary leading then Alec, then Simon, then Isabelle, finally Jace and behind him trailed Maia.

But soon they were speeding along the corridor; they were under the studio by now. Clary sighed feeling the loss of years of work and preparation, thousands of pounds, being turned into ashes.

Clary couldn't remember the long corridor being this long, she knew it spanned from one end of the lengthy building to the other, and she had been down it too often but this seemed endless. Or maybe it was the smoke staring to fill the space in front of her making her eyes sting and water up. She counted the doors as she ran down the corridor; she knew that this was the end of yet another life. _Ashes to ashes, _she thought, _dust to dust. _

She coughed over her shoulder, "It's this room! We're here."

But as she said that a crack sounded behind her and someone swore loudly and fluently. She spun around in time to see Jace fall as if he missed a step, one of his feet had fallen through the floor boards. Clary regretted using such an old building for her offices. As Jace fell it seemed like he was falling in slow motion, his arms reaching forward as he fell downwards. It reminded her of the trap door on Scooby-Doo and either Scooby or Shaggy just fell straight down. Alec surged forward and grabbed Jace's left arm that had been outstretched as he fell towards the fire below him that was suddenly filling the corridor. Jace scrambled to regain his footing and tripped onto his knee, allowing his other foot to follow. Clary looked at Maia across the gap; she was looking at the flames reaching at them all through the rapidly widening hole with fear in her wide eyes.

"Jump!" cried Simon, "Maia jump, I'll catch you!" in the corner of her eye Clary saw Jace mutter something in Alec's ear, Alec still hadn't let go of his forearm. Once Jace had whispered a second thing though, he did.

Clary knew that time was running out, she had seen enough government warning videos and home videos on YouTube to know that they had around a minute left, "Maia, if you don't jump RIGHT NOW you're going to have to go find a fire exit!" Clary locked eyes with Maia. The other girl was pleading with her, her eyes a betrayal of her panic. Clary nodded and Maia spun on her heel and disappeared in the black air.

For god's sake Clary hoped that there was an exit or decent window near.

Water was streaming down Clary's cheeks and she rubbed her eyes, the black smoke stung them and the small pant's she was taking was evidence that she was getting less and less oxygen. She took her head out of her eyes and brushed past Jace and through the door behind him. She stopped dead at the threshold.

Through the length of the room was a gaping hole, it seemed as if the building liked to play peek-a-boo with its floorboards. The desk that had occupied the main space there had fallen through the hole long ago. Across the two foot gap and past the caressing flames was the window to their freedom, now black from smoke.

Clary was shoved to the side by Alec as he burst into the room. His black hair was plastered to his skin and sweat poured down his back. He ran to the bookcase that was near the edge of the gap. He went to the side of it and shoved into it. It rocked, but was on one of the few spaces in the room that could support it. Jace realised what he was doing, which was still escaping Clary's notice. He ran over to Alec's side and Isabelle, Clary and Simon watched in confusion as the men in suits in the middle of a fire grappled a massive bookcase.

Soon the bookcase fell flat on its face, bits of ash and several burned things flew up in its wake. Isabelle then realised what they were doing and went to grab the bottom of the shelf. Alec was holding one side while Jace was holding the opposite end.

Then it hit Clary and her oxygen deprived brain figured it out, they were making a bridge.

She rushed over and together she, Isabelle, Alec and Jace made a makeshift bridge. But it wouldn't last long. A hand grasped Clary's upper arm roughly and pulled to the end of the book shelf. Clary wasn't too sure who had pushed her to the front of the line but she didn't hesitate to start across the shelf.

Clary wiped her sweaty palms on her sweat soaked overall's and started across the small bridge. When she neared the middle it rocked a bit but she hurried across slightly faster and breathed a sigh of relief when she reached the other end. Once there she wasted no time in trying to open the window. It was a sliding sash so she had to push it up to open it. She bent her knees and pushed the heel of her palms into the bottom of the window but it wouldn't bundge.

Somebody's hands appeared on either side of hers and they were distinguishably masculine. The knuckles had slight calluses on them and the fingers were long and slim, like they were pianists' hands or fiddlers. The owner to the hand pressed his chest against her back, the heat coming from him was sweaty and hot, but together they managed to push the window up as far as it would go.

Clary chocked as the fresh air came in and black smoke poured out. She turned around to see Jace stood inches from her, watching her though narrowed eyes. Then he turned to the side and Clary saw past him. She saw Alec and Isabelle but she couldn't see Simon. Her heart nearly stopped when she thought she'd lost him but then she saw him on the _wrong side of the gap! _

Simon took a running leap and jumped easily across the gap, the flames of the fire reaching up for him and quickly caressing his legs as he past. He landed on this side but as he landed the impact unsettled the already unstable floor.

As the floor beneath her feet buckled Clary turned and looked out of the window. Below her was a closed dumpster in an alley. It was relatively clean, for a dumpster. She certainly wouldn't slip on the slime growing there when she landed. This was the reason she had chosen this room as a quick sneaky get a way should she need it.

She put her hands on the window sill. Behind her Clary heard Jace yell, "Idiot mundane! What do you think we used the bookcase for?" before she could turn around and defend Simon she swung her other leg up and through so she was sat on the window sill.

Behind Clary someone spoke again, saying "Clarissa go!" she thought it was Isabelle.

She wanted to tell her that in the past few seconds she had climbed onto a window ledge and that in its self should be a cause for celebration but she was already falling through the air. Clary's stomach jumped into her throat and her scream got trapped somewhere in her throat. The air swirled past her, good, clean, fresh air that had absolutely no smoke in, just the smell of the dumpster she was falling towards. Clary felt a look of terror cross her face but then her feet slammed into something.

Her knees wouldn't follow her command of 'bend just a little'. Instead they thought they were made of jelly and collapsed on the dumpster. Her hands flew out before she could sprawl out face first on the dumpster's lid. She looked up to see the first of the three precious remaining paintings. She jumped to her feet and managed to catch it as it fell from the fire. She glanced at it to see which one it was, it was her favourite of the three left, the next two came sailing down together. It must have been getting bad.

Once she had all three canvases stuck under her arm she hopped off the dumpster. It was quite a long drop, it was a shame no one had seen that she hadn't fallen over. She glanced up to see Simons shiny black shoes dangling over the windowsill.

Clary thought of Maia, and she shivered. She had been friends with Maia for six years, and three different identities. As suspicious as she was, Maia thought that watching Clary's coffin be burned and scattered wasn't enough proof that Clary was dead, she had searched for the proof herself. Needless to say, she hadn't been happy to know Clary was going to let her think that she was dead.

Black smoke was billowing for freedom out of the window. Simon's legs jerked and the hems of his pants flared out as he fell through the air. He landed on the dumpster and did the opposite of Clary, where her legs collapsed his stayed as stiff as wooden pegs. He stumbled off balance and fell off the dumpster with his arms flailing.

"Simon!" Clary shrieked, "Are you alright?" she ran over to where Simon was sprawled on the alley floor in a filthy puddle.

Simon groaned and rolled over. Clary screamed as something big hit the dumpster behind her. She spun to see Isabelle standing on the edge of the dumpster grinning down at them. Clary would have like to do her for a perfume advert or a shampoo ad.

Without a word Isabelle hopped down. She helped Clary get Simon to his feet and Alec landed on the dumpster within a few seconds of Isabelle. Clary glared at him, he just stood there like he hadn't done anything. He'd landed, taking the impact slightly with his knees. It was as if he'd walked right of the _Matrix_, or _Underworld_. He hopped off the dumpster like it was a curb as Jace fell from the air.

Jace landed like a cat. Or to Clary more like a lion or something just as wild and graceful. He landed crouched, his back arched. He looked wild and dangerous, it made Clary shiver. He glanced around the alley and then looked at himself and all of his companions.

He grinned, "It's a shame it's not the 1900's, we could have disguised ourselves as chimney sweepers."

Clary looked at herself and then at the others. They all had black, sooty faces and their hair shed ash. Their clothes were just as bad. Clary's paintings were black as well, but thankfully a cloth and water should fix that, Clary had used a spray on them, it protected the canvas from getting stained.

Simon coughed beside her and cleared his throat, "I need water."

So did Clary, her throat was parched and she imagined that this would be like swallowing petrol or something just as bad would be like. She stated, "Me too."

Alec and Isabelle agreed. Jace sighed, "I'll go and get the car, and I'll stop at the end of the alley and beep the horn."

"Are you crazy? You'll be stopped by the police or fire fighters; it's obvious you've just been in this building!" Alec warned.

"Anyway," Isabelle added, clearly wanting the three of them to stick together, "The building could collapse at any minute. We all need to get out of here." She glanced at Simon, "Do you have anywhere to go?"

Simon's back straightened and his chest puffed out, "I'm sticking with Clary. Where she goes I go. Right Clary?"

Clary looked hard at Simon. He had been with her through thick and thin, though it was nothing like this. If anything happened to him, like it had with Maia, it would be her fault. She knew he would say it was his own, but she wouldn't be able to shed the guilt. Her three rescuers deemed him a liability already, luggage to be hauled about.

But none of that mattered. Clary glanced at Jace, Alec and Isabelle. She said, "Simon, can I talk to you in private, please?"

Clary's heart broke as she saw a betrayed look cross his face. She whispered, "Please?" she would have winked at him, but because Jace was still standing over them on the edge of the dumpster he would have seen her.

Simon narrowed his eyes and stormed to the back of the alley without a word. Clary's shoulders dropped, this would be difficult.

Clary tried to avoid the puddles gathered in the alley's ditches as she followed him. When she caught up to him, a good ear shot away from the three strangers, he was examining a wall to see if it was worth it further running his suit by leaning against it.

Clary sighed and he turned to her, she started first, "I have a plan."

He immediately interrupted by groaning. She said, "Simon, I'm trying to make it look like I'm trying to convince you to leave me, please don't make it difficult."

"Yes but this plan _does _involve me leaving you."

"Just hear me out." Clary pleaded. She took his shrug as a yes, "Well, if it has escaped your notice I think it's time for a fresh start. But this time it's going to be more difficult-,"

"What gave you that idea? The three Hunters on your tail or your dad's ex-allies doing an insane stunt to try and shoot you?"

"Simon," Clary's voice was subdued. Simon took a step forward to hear her whispers, "My mother's dead."

Clary didn't want to see his reaction. He hadn't met her mum, but Clary had told him every memory that Clary had of her. Instead she looked down to the dirty, garbage filled alley floor. She felt his hand on her shoulder, not weighing her down like Jace's had, but light and comforting. She shrugged him off, "Act like I'm offending you."

She saw his shiny black shoes take a step back. Clary carried on, "Now, it's going to be difficult to get away from these Hunters. There giving you a free pass. Take it."

"But Clary, were stronger when were together!"

"Simon, think about how much easier it will be if there's a car outside waiting for me, with you driving it. I'm a master at getting away and you know it. Once these are on their home turf they will think they have me in the sack. They underestimate me Simon; they have already done it once." She sighed, the very few advantages of being tiny, "Once I'm out I'll disappear and I'll go straight to yours. Get your stuff together. Don't go round mine, the filth will be watching it.

"As soon as you get out of this alley get new clothes on. Then go to my bank and empty it. If they don't let you go to the next bank, if they don't let you go to the next and empty my mothers. You know the code don't you?"

He answered automatically, "3689734."

"Good. Make sure you have a lot of petrol in your car, be ready to fly. If I'm not there within two day's go straight to the cabin. I'll get in touch and tell you the address ASAP. Okay? Now act as if I've said something offensive to you and act betrayed. Don't say anything and just storm out of the alley."

Clary looked at him in the eye, she knew he didn't like it, but she knew he would go along with it. He looked as if he was going to be sick; he shook his head stepping away from Clary. Simon was a good actor.

Clary chocked, "Simon. Please, just go!"

Simon turned his back on her and sprinted from the alley. Clary begged that he could empty out her account. Once he hadn't been able to, it had been one of the single toughest times for both of them.

A single tear rolled across her cheek as she watched his blackened back disappear around the corner. He was a rock in a hard place, and yet he still blindly followed her advice. Sometimes, his trust in her scared her, along with his unrequited love. But she did love him, but just not in the way he loved her. Even though it was completely selfish, she couldn't bear to leave him.

She started to slowly make her way to Jace, Alec and Isabelle where they were waiting for her. Jace was sat on the dumpster and they were all watching her. Clary scrubbed the tear ferociously away.

Jace said, "Well, we've got rid of _that _liability."

"You bastard," Clary glared at him, "Why don't you get rid of _your_ extra baggage and deflate your head?"

Jace smirked and locked gazes with her, "Probably I am a bastard," He said, "But no one knows, since I was brought up in an orphanage."

Clary raised her eye brows, he was lying. You heard of orphans in books, but you never met one. "So, what is your ingenious plan?"

Without warning Isabelle grabbed Clary's wrist in a death grip. For a moment Clary thought, _what have I just done? They wanted get rid of Simon so they could easily kill me! _But then Isabelle grinned and said, "We run!"

Alec then came up behind her and picked her up as if she was his bride. Clary shrieked as the three Hunters sped out the alley. The pavement was empty but the one on the other side was packed with spectators watching Clary's building turn to ashes. Clary got annoyed with them; they could be passing buckets of water to each other and vainly throwing the contents through an empty window in an attempt to douse the flames. Isabelle was still gripping Clary's wrists and started hysterically crying.

Jace sped ahead of them and Clary watched as he disappeared around the corner. Clary got the gist and lay faint in Alec's huge arms. She hadn't realised how big he was, he was tall and slim but if he was a foot shorter people would have noticed how broad he was. His arms were like tree trunks.

Clary, Alec and Isabelle rounded a corner and Clary saw three huge red trucks. Here at the front of the building were even more spectators and on lookers. Clary looked up and saw three long thin ribbons of water pouring into the second floor windows. The first floor had already been put out. The second floor seemed to be dying out but black smoke rose into the blue sky from the third.

Alec stopped at a shiny sleek black car. Clary's mouth dropped open at the insanely expensive looking car. The engine was already purring and Jace was in the driver's side. Alec put Clary onto her feet and opened the back door, smoothly shoving Clary inside and hopping in next to her as she hastily shuffled over on the soft slippery leather upholstery.

Before she could even get settled or Alec had closed the car door Jace had pulled out and was accelerating quickly down the street. Clary cleared her throat as she buckled into the car. Isabelle was in the passenger seat in front of her. The radio was blaring out some rock as Jace expertly navigated through the oldest part of the city. Clary looked out of the windows and read as many streets as she could. If they stopped down one then she needed to know what it was, to tell Simon.

She hoped he had gotten some more clothes by now.

But they didn't stop in the city. They drove quickly, somehow avoiding the main traffic roads. Jace knew the area well, quickly sliding into a side street or taking a detour to dodge cues or traffic lights. Clary doubted that they ever went below ten mph.

Soon they were in the suburb's gliding past homes and street corner shops. Within five minutes they were out of the city and passing retirement homes and schools. What took Clary twenty minutes and a lot of cursing had taken silent swift Jace five minutes. Clary couldn't help but notice how quick and efficient he was at driving the huge sports car, it was attractive and Clary had a hard time keeping her eyes from drifting. The only thing wrong that Clary could think of was how much Jace's insane speeding scared her.

"Where are we going?" Clary asked, nervous about how long it would take her to get to Simon's, did they plan on taking her out of the country?

Isabelle chair squeaked as she turned around to see Clary as she chatted to her, "We're going to mine. Alec's is farthest away, Jace was burgled last week and anyway, he lives in a dingy flat. My house has the best security and provisions. Something tells me were going to need them."

"Where is your house?" Clary glanced sceptically out the window; they were in a posh district now, with big mansions and acres for gardens.

Isabelle just gave her a sneaky smile and turned around as Jace pulled off the bypass to a small county lane between huge walls that surrounded mansion owning millionaires land. It didn't escape Clary's notice that there were no speed restriction signs.

Once they had rounded the corner Jace put his foot down. If Clary had thought he was speeding before that was nothing compared to now, he was putting the car through its paces. The engine roared and Clary's back slammed against the back of the seats. Apparently this wasn't usual Jace behaviour because Alec and Isabelle clutched to their seats and Alec warned, "Jace..."

The car jerked as Jace sped round a sharp corner, Clary looked at his hands, his knuckles were white they were gripping the wheel that tight. Jace answered Alec, "Someone is following us, Isabelle, turn the music off."

Isabelle quickly turned the music off. Clary's heart was hammering in her chest as she watched the road. It twisted and turned and every time they rounded a corner Clary expected a car to meet them or a wall to be there. Every time she cringed. Clary glanced out of the back windshield of the car and saw a flash of black before they disappeared around another corner.

She looked forwards and said, "Jesus, I feel as if I'm in a James Bond film."

Jace replied, "But with cooler gadgets."

Clary rolled her eyes.

Then the walls that Clary presumed surrounded the mansions in the area fell away to a forest. As soon as this happened the road forked away. Jace disappeared down the far right one, it was called _Hunters Trail. _

The tension inside the car was growing so Clary said, "Hunters Trail. Wow you guys are imaginative."

Alec just scowled at her. Clary shrunk, wow, it really was tense.

This road was even more twisted and Jace had to slow down. Clary stared at the forest, wondering if there would be any deer on the road. After around five minutes of drifting round hundreds of U bends suddenly Jace slowed and then stopped. They had just rounded a corner, Clary looked around, they weren't near any houses.

Jace put the car in reverse and turned around to look where he was reversing. As he turned he glanced at Clary and she saw a small smile tug at his lips. She turned around to look where they were reversing into.

The last corner they had sped along had been a U turn. In the little space between the roads was a little alcove. They backed into it, trees looming outside the windows to create a dark canopy above them. When the car bumped into a tree Jace stopped and turned the engine off.

The car fell silent and it was dark into the shade of the trees. The road was around six feet away, anyone who wasn't paying careful attention to their surroundings wouldn't see them if they drove past the way they had come. They heard the faint noise of an engine and then a black car sped past them and around the next twist. The tension eased of a bit once its tail lights had gone and Clary could freely breathe.

Clary said, "Nice place Isabelle."

Isabelle turned around and grinned, going along with it, "Aw thanks! My interior designer went for a jungle theme, but I think its more forest."

Alec said, "Shut it you two."

Isabelle sniffed and said, "God Alec, what's crawled up _your_-,"

"I said," interrupted Alec, "quiet."

Clary could see Jace's shoulders shake as he tried not to laugh and Isabelle tried in vain not to giggle. Clary fought for a straight face and shrugged at Alec, "They just can't quit it, can they?"

But then her face broke into a grin. Alec muttered something obscene and asked, "Can we go now? I need a cup of coffee."

Clary inquired, "Won't we pass them when they come back?"

Isabelle, who was still turned around shook her head as Jace started the car, "This road go's right around a national park, or its protected wildlife or something. It go's in a loop and at the other end it leads onto a motorway. They won't ever go to a dead end; they'll think they're still chasing us. Along the road there are five mansions, well, three, two plots haven't been bought and built yet. I was the first to buy a plot; I got to name the road."

With that Jace pulled out of the alcove that allowed them to give their chasers the slip. He went at a reasonable pace now, one that didn't make Clary's heart race. Everyone inside the car was silent for the next five minutes.

There was another fork in the road but this time there was a huge gate at the middle road. Clary leaned forward in anticipation. They stopped just before the gates and Isabelle got her purse out of the glove compartment. Clary rolled her eyes; it was a Mary Poppin's bag. When Isabelle started fishing in it for something, it went to her elbow. Clary thought it was ridiculous; you just didn't have that many things to put in a hand bag. You would never even fill half of it. But then again, Clary did have a practical streak.

With a small, "Aha!" Isabelle snaked her arm back out of the bag with a small black plastic square with a big silver LI engraved on it. She pointed it out of the windscreen and pressed the button on it. Clary watched as a small crack appeared in the gothic style dark wooden gate. It quickly grew bigger and within seconds the gates were open. Jace slowly drove through, allowing Isabelle to press the button once more to close the gates behind them.

They drove down a small avenue, the road was grey gravel and conifers towering above the on either side. When they emerged from the long drive Clary gasped.

It was enormous.

It was a Cathedral, either that or a castle. The spires weren't too big but they were at least seven floors tall. As they drove to the front doors a pack of Doberman's ran barking out of the woods at them. There were around twenty dogs. Isabelle rolled down her window and yelled something at them didn't reach Clary's ears. Jace pulled up to the front door and Clary scrambled out. Her head tilted back as she took in the view. On either end of the house were two towers. The face of the house rose in the middle, the front door was two huge double doors, reaching up to what had to be the second floor. From there on was a large round painted window, with a, Clary guessed, ten foot radius, and showing angels falling from the heavens. The steps that lead to the huge entrance doors were wide and were flanked by tall pillars.

Isabelle walked over to Clary and put her arm around her. Clary was speechless, "It's _huge!_"

Isabelle grinned at her stunned expression, "Welcome to the Lightwood Institute. Back in the good old days of my family before the great robbery, plans to create an institute for anyone with the Lightwood name was planned. I found the blue prints when I was still in my teens, ever since I wanted to build it. In my line of work you get a lot of money, I saved up for five years, by living with Alec. I fulfilled my dream."

Clary felt a sudden urge to praise her, "It's as big as a castle, no, its as big as a cathedral. How big is it?"

"It's can house up to two hundred and fifty people at one time. The grounds are around fifty acre's. My dog's here guard the grounds. Got them as puppies and trained them myself. The mess was unbelievable." Isabelle face scrunched up in disgust at the memory.

Jace had been walking up the steps while they had been talking. He turned around at the top of them and said, "Ladies, no loitering please."

Clary, once again, rolled her eyes. She looked around for Alec and saw him in the middle of the pack of large black dogs handing out treats. Isabelle let go of her and wondered over to him. Clary thought that they must be brother and sister; they both had the same inky black hair, the same winged eye brows and delicate features. But while Alec had depthless bottle blue eyes, Isabelle had charcoal black eyes that were always expressionless.

Clary turned and made her way up the large stone steps. The front doors towered above her but thankfully they were already ajar. Clary noted the thickness of the wood as she walked through; they were as thick as her thigh. When she made a run for it, she would have to use a back door or window; she seriously doubted her petite self could move that thing.

The entryway was a hall, a few steps led to the large space that was probably used for dancing or greeting. Surrounding the room were sofas. Facing straight across from her was a vast staircase, sweeping up and splitting into two as it went to either end of the building. The ceiling was high above her and echoed every time she breathed. On either end of the staircase were doors, Clary scurried to catch Jace up as she saw him disappear through one of them.

Clary, who still hadn't gotten rid of her ad head, could imagine something here. In old Victorian costumes and dancing, swirling dresses and secret lovers.

She followed Jace through the archway leading to a corridor. She walked along, trailing her fingers across the wallpaper that showed flowers in a pattern, in a cream colour. Jace had disappeared from the corridor which was surprisingly long. Clary was about to turn back but then she heard the faint noise of Nina Simone.

She carried on down the hall just as the trumpet's kicked in. As the music grew louder she noticed that a door on the right was open. She stopped at the doorway, and her mouth dropped open at the sight.

**Just so you know, it was Nina Simone, feeling good. :-{D**

**Right, on the right side of my face I have scratches, and me and my sister got all giddy and my dad decided to do something about it...**

"**So, what happened to your face?"**

"**My dad chucked his dog at me..."**

**That is literally what happened. She was meant to land on my tummy, (she's a likkle staffy) but my sister tickled me, so I writhed about and my face was there instead. It hurt, but I rekon its quite funny. Thought i'd tell you that, was on my mind, or rather, on my face.**

**So this is the length i want most of my chapters to be. I aint to sure on how clear i was, it was my sisters birthday on Saturday and i've been eating all the left over sweets, constant sugar rush, you know? So for any clarification, ill read your reviews.**

**Please review, i want improvements, ta to that guy who said bout my i's should be I's and definitely not eyes. I can't remember your name...**

**Recommendations- look on my favourite story's...:-D (p.s. im lazy.)**

**FW. :-{D **


	4. Chapter 4Question's and Querys

**Jeus Christie...**

Meanwhile, in the west tower the ceiling was being examined. Jace lay on his back, he'd been alone with his thoughts for a fair few hours now, and he still didn't understand his own thoughts whirling in his head, and the tornado of self doubt was starting to give him a head ache.

The room was quite bare. Isabelle had wanted matching furniture in the institute rooms. She had chosen solid Victorian type furniture, real wood, and not flimsy plywood. This furniture was decades old and still would last a lot longer than anything from IKEA. Isabelle had given the west tower to Jace with permission to change the furniture. Jace hadn't bothered. The tower consisted of three floors, each floor had a huge ceilings. The first set of stairs was to get to the first floor of Jace's tower, the second to the second and the third to the third, the ground level wasn't part of the tower, it was just one of the identical corridors in the institute. That was three sets of stairs. He wasn't carrying a bed up three flights of long stairs, plywood or wood. The sheets on his bed were white, the room clean. The first floor was his small living room and kitchen duo. He rarely spent time in there. The second floor was his bedroom and bathroom, and the third floor, where he spent most of his time in the tower, was his 'recreational room' as Izzy had called it. It was his training room.

At the moment Jace was flat on his back on his bed, his chest rising and falling steadily with the deep breaths he was taking. All in all he was utterly confused.

He tried to think clearly, but all he thought was Clary.

To him, she was beautiful in a subtle kind of way. She didn't flaunt her good looks, like Isabelle. But she didn't hide her good looks like Alec. She wasn't exactly as confident as Magnus.

She was just Clary.

Jace sighed in frustration, and rubbed his face with both his hands. Once they had escaped the burning building adrenaline had been coursing through his veins, he wasn't really thinking, just _doing._ He guessed.

Then his full concentration was on the drive, getting out of the city centre. Even though the car demanded his full attention he couldn't help but steal quick glimpses in the rear view at Clary. Every time she was looking out the window, gripping the handle on the door. For extremely unexplainable reasons Jace had hoped that their eyes would meet in the mirror, that he would watch her breath catch and the lust in her eyes.

For some reason, he had hoped.

It had been a long time since he had hoped for anything really. Sure he hoped for a fist fight when he went to a bar, sure he hoped Izzy had ordered Chinese instead of attempting cooking. But this was different, this was meaningful.

Then he had turned to reverse into the little parking bay they had maintained for that exact reason, which was to rid of any tails, and he had had a real look at Clary, and the sight had pleased him. The fact that small red head wearing soot covered over alls sitting safe and sound in the back of the car he was driving had pleased him.

For crying out loud he had smiled! Well, Jace reckoned it was safe to say that the unflappable unemotional guy had flown right out of the window.

Obviously, sitting next to miss eagle eye she had noticed. She hadn't said anything, just raised an eye brow.

The thing he most liked about Clary was the irony. Her appearance matched her personality. The head of flames matched her quick to light anger. It was very rarely he could banter with someone without them having to put too much effort into. Clary had acid for a tongue and she was fluent in sarcasm.

Jace liked that. Jace liked that a lot.

He just didn't know what to _do _about it.

Finally unable to stay still he rolled off the bed and headed for the stairs that hugged the side of the curving wall. Another reason he hadn't made a fuss and changed the furniture was because the wood always seemed alive. The dark wood hummed under his fingers. And knowing that this was just a plank of wood and that someone had carved and created this smooth endless flowing banister was something else.

Then his thought returned to Clary. He knew that most people couldn't notice the warmth of the wood like him, he wondered if Clary could.

Growling in frustration he headed up the stairs, his socks slightly slipping on the bare polished wood. When he reached the top floor the banister cut off and it opened up into his favourite sanctuary. In three rows across the top of the wall were weapons, swords, num chucks, knives and daggers and much more types. In the centre of the room was a black training mat, circling this was several different training equipment.

Jace was a detective for the hunters. He was the youngest and the best. Isabelle and Alec had already been partners when they were finally promoted. Jace had already been a detective for a year, and he had already been through fifteen partners. The Inquisitor had taken a drastic step and put them into three, with Jace at the head. His main job was to hunt down demons. Demons were criminals who weren't vamps, warlocks, wolves or fairies, they were petty thieves and hustlers, but he mainly hunted the big time boys who meddled in a world they didn't know much about. The second job was to police downworld. This included when one of the cults members showed up dead, which was more often than not. But this, a deserter showing up dead, was astronomical.

There were around ten deserters in the world. It's safe to say that most hunters are happy getting paid to whoop ass and threaten people; that and being held back from the noose. The most puzzling piece of this investigation is that no one had a motive for killing a hunter. The four cults were happy with the hunters, we represented fairness and we treated them the same. Plus the government made sure we didn't go corrupt. They were happy with us; we were part of their world, not an ignorant mundane police.

So who would take the time and effort to find, seek and destroy a deserter?

Jace pulled down one of the glass blades from the wall. All of his weapons were glass, reinforced and sharp. Despite being glass they wouldn't break if a hippopotamus waddled over and stepped on it. He started one of his more strenuous ritual dances. They were supposed to build the muscles and focus the mind.

Usually they did.

Something was escaping him, some major fact. This was a big puzzle and he was failing to see the bigger picture. What he needed was to know Jocelyn Fairchild's past, but unfortunately she took that when she deserted the Hunters. So the key to her past was with Clary. Jocelyn deserted around 25 years ago, but then he must have been looking too far back. Either that or she was damn good at escaping from people out to shoot her, no one could run and hide for 25 years and as far as we know, she never faked her death.

He opened his eyes after the third round of the dance. He shed his shirt, sweat covering his torso. Then he closed his eyes, flexed his fingers on the handle of the blade, and started again.

So he doubted that she was killed for deserting. So when did it begin? What started off the chain reaction to cause her murder?

Well he wasn't getting anywhere fast with that line of questioning, so he decided to look at recent event. He met Clary.

He growled with pained as his blade swung just that fraction wrong and cut his knuckles. He dropped the blade onto the mat and examined them. Blood poured from his second third and fourth knuckles, his first had just been scraped slightly. Jace, who was annoyed with himself for losing his concentration, walked over to his window where his first aid kit lay.

He glanced out of the window. His tower looked over the back courtyard, on the other side of the courtyard as Izzy's north tower. The building was in a U shape with a tower on each corner. In the centre of the gravel courtyard was a huge fountain. It was a beautiful courtyard. From here he could see the north ward and the east ward.

His knuckles were stinging now and he struggled to open the green box. Once he had unlatched the lid and opened the box he tipped it upside down so he didn't have to root through it all and stain everything with his blood. He found a cloth and held it over his knuckles looking for a wipe. When he found the dry wipe he searched for the brown bottle of antiseptic and he soaked the wipe. He wiped it over his knuckles, wincing as the antiseptic stung his cuts.

Now that the majority of the blood was clear he inspected his injuries. They were shallow, but because of how shallow they were, they bled a lot. Grumbling at the offending injuries, he covered them in gauze and wrapped a bandage across them, squeezing his fingers together. He tied it and looked at his handiwork.

It was terrible. The bandage had bunched together so that part of the gauze was uncovered and it wouldn't stay knotted.

Sudden inspiration came to him as he saw a flash of red out of the window on the north ward. Jace walked over and he watched Clary lean out of the window and look around the courtyard.

His mind already made up he turned and jogged down the stairs. In his bedroom he crossed the room and past the mirror, which showed him. His sculpted torso bare and sweaty and locks of his golden hair plastered to his forehead. He jogged down the stairs into his living room kitchen combo. He crossed the room and walked down the final set of stairs into the corridor below. The corridors were identical, plush brown carpet, lower walls panelled wood, upper walls beige wall paper with a dark shade of beige making a flower pattern.

What could he say, Isabelle like matching colours.

Jace wound his way through the corridors of the institute; it took his five minutes to get to Clary's room. He was in the North wing corridor and he wouldn't have been able to know which room Isabelle had situated her in but thankfully her door was open slightly and as he neared he heard her voice. Outside the room he paused to eavesdrop.

Clary was talking to someone on the phone, "-and there's a whole pack of huge black dogs. But after the Bose's that shouldn't be much of a problem. I'll get away tomorrow, be around the corner at around five."

She paused for a while, whoever was on the other line must have been speaking, "No, because I want to find out about her. It will take time. I also need to know how they found me and how easy it was for them to dig up my deep well hidden past." Jace was shocked by the icy tone of her voice. Even he would be hard put to argue with her.

"Just go along with my plan. Okay? Good. Did you get all the money? Good, I was worried about that," Jace frowned, what money? "I just need to cover my tracks and were going to have to lay low for a while; we don't want these demons coming after us." Jace's jaw dropped, she knew about them. Inside the room Clary carried on talking, oblivious to Jace who was coping with shock, "I know we have more people on our tails this time! I'm in their freaking castle! No I just think it's the four of them. Isabelle, Alec, Magnus and Jace." He was utterly pleased when her voice stuttered over his name.

Jace opened the door, thanking angels that the door didn't squeak. The room was plain, bed in middle, wardrobe, bedside table. The phone cord stretched from the bedside table to the window where Clary still leaned out of the window. She had changed out of the filthy over alls and Isabelle had probably picked something out of the storage. Isabelle loved to buy clothes; she bought clothes constantly and in different sizes in case of 'emergencies'. Even though why having to wear slightly too big clothes for a day was an emergency Jace would never know. Clary carried on talking.

"Yeah, Magnus is a warlock, he's dating Alec. Yes, Alec's gay, no you never said and you didn't know. Magnus is alright, we had a sing along to Nina Simone in the kitchen, and it was pretty fun. He just surprised me when I first saw him; he's so...sparkly and shiny. He's good at miming as well. Yeah, see you tomorrow at five around the corner, bye."

Jace watched her as she leaned over to put the phone down. She walked across the room; his palms were tingling in anticipation. He silently padded over to her and grabbed her small right shoulder and heard her gasp, he spun her, her red hair swishing around, and pushed her onto the bed. Before she could roll off the bed he jumped onto her and straddled her hips. He grabbed her wrists and pulled her hands up and above her head.

Jace leaned and playing with her, ran his nose along her jaw. He whispered in her ear, "Hmm, planning on running away are we?" he was close to her. She radiated warmth and she smelled so _good. _Her sweet breath tickled his ear as she gasped.

She wiggled underneath him, _oh god._

When she didn't answer he asked, "Who are you?" she didn't answer so he ducked his head and ran his tongue up her throat. She gasped and her body automatically arched up to fit with his. Jace tightened her grip on her wrists and lifted his head to look in her green eyes, "Answer me."

He bent so that their noses were almost touching. Her lips parted slightly. Strands of her hair were across her face. His whole body tingled and was alive. Her breath stirred across his face. She gulped. Jace was aware of her, and only her. Anticipation and adrenaline coursed through his veins, but he held back.

He growled slightly and bent lower searching her eyes, "Answer me."

Suddenly she shifted and she used agility and speed to roll them over. Suddenly she was on top of Jace. She tucked her knees and slid through his legs before he could close them and trap her. Now she was straddling him. But Jace still felt her light pulse underneath the wrists he was still holding.

He watched her bend her head and run it up his chest, he heard her intake of breath as she smelled him. He felt her tongue as she licked the sweat covering his chest. She reached his throat and nibbled slightly, when she reached his ear and took the lobe and sucked it. Jace growled. She breathed into his ear, "You think you're the only one who can play?"

But she wasn't the only one who could play either. He lifted his head and buried his head in her hair and found her neck. His lips closed and he started to suck on the sweet tasting skin of her neck. She moaned softly and melted slightly into him. The legs straddling his hips relaxed, she didn't weigh much as her body settled on his and her breath tickled the back of his neck as she hung her head. Jace had nearly marked her before she came to her senses and sat up.

She scowled at him and her hands tugged to be let free. Jace smirked and mimicked, "You think you're the only one who can play?"

She glared at him and bent down, kissing him slightly. Then she deepened the kiss and bent down low. Jace's hand gripped her wrists as he hardened. Clary gasped slightly as she felt him through his track suit pants. She didn't relent and their lips were moulding with each other, sliding along each other, their tongues exploring each other's mouths. Clary tasted so good to Jace, sweet spice.

Clary tensed for a second and then gyrated on him. Jace's groan escaped his lips before he could lock them. Clary stopped kissing him, rising up enough just to take small pants.

Jace asked again, but this time in incredulity, "Who are you?"

Clary shook her head, "You're going to have to try harder than that."

Jace raised his hips slightly and controlled his moan at the contact. Clary didn't, it was small but it was there. Jace smirked.

Clary cleared her throat, "Point made. Now let me go."

"Not until you tell me who you are."

"Oh, I'll _show _you who I am and what I am capable of if you don't let me go!"

Jace sat up, but heeded her threat, "Just be warned, you're going to be watched. It's safer in here than it is out there. Trust me, it's my job to stop what's out there from coming in here, and it isn't easy."

Jace let her wrists go and they disappeared along with the weight that was holding his hips down. The door closed as she disappeared from his view once more.

Well, he hadn't done anything like that before.

Jace sat up and looked at his bandage, which was even more messed up than it had been before.

God this girl was going to be the death of him. Jace rubbed his eyes once more, the back of his eye lids showing Clary above him, her hair hanging down from her head.

He sighed and stood up, checked himself over and then made his way to the office. The office was in the south wing, Jace passed it to get to his tower. Because Isabelle and Alec's ancestors had to design such a large building and Isabelle had to build it to scale, five minutes had passed before he got there.

Jace reached the office door and pulled the handle up, the wood panelling that was the wide door frame moved to reveal a key board. He typed in the combination and closed the panel, pushing it three times as was needed. Then he opened the door and walked in.

The office was a dark room with a meeting room and three open offices; one for Jace, one for Alec and one for Isabelle. It was a large room. They had customised their offices so each of the offices were their own, but they had all of the same foundations. Jace walked into his area, there was three different screens and one large key board. Opposite that was a microscope and further investigative equipment. Out of the three of them, Jace was the one who went out and did the dirty work and he was also the weapon specialist. Going to question Clary had seemed like a mundane job which usually Jace did on his own, but Alec and Izzy had needed time out of the office, so they had tagged along.

Jace walked over and sat in his office chair, starting up his screens. Out of all of the identity's Clary had, there must be a common factor, other than her name. Jace needed to know who had been on the other side of the line.

It was someone Clary had to have known for a while, a number of identities probably. Someone she trusted and was reliable.

Jace had the feeling the answer was staring him in the face.

It was like the bigger picture. He just failed to see it. Why would someone go through mounds of trouble to kill one of the rare deserters of the Hunters? Then later do a stupid crazy stunt by dangling on a rope from the tip of a crane with a machine gun strapped to them to try and kill her daughter? Then, just to make sure the machine gun worked, set the building on fire.

Jace didn't believe in coincidences.

Maybe it was an old family feud.

He researched the Fairchild name and narrowed it down to Clary's closest Ancestors. They were a rich family, with a city home and a country manor. Clary's great grandparents were a famous assassin couple, when they were finally caught around 1900 they were offered a position on the Hunters. They had a daughter, Clary's grandmother, who worked for the Hunters. She was a researcher; she didn't get into much action. Then there was Jocelyn, just her name and age and the fact that she was deserted. That was it; Jocelyn took the rest of the information before she ran. The last thing that was stated about the family is that Jocelyn had a daughter who is currently unknown.

So Clary's grandmother was nice and quiet, the great grandparents were isolated, being assassin's. Not one clear enemy on the blood line.

But what enemy's did Jocelyn gather?

Jace turned in his swivel chair as the door opened behind him. Alec came in with a tray holding two mugs, Jace could smell caffeine.

Jace leapt from his chair and ran to the mug, as if it would hop of the tray and run away on its little nonexistent mug legs. Alec raised an eyebrow at him and said, "Oh my angel, have I walked in on something embarrassing? Is Jace Herondale doing research?"

Jace shot him the bird and collapsed on his office chair again. He felt Alec come up behind him and ask, "So, what have you found out?"

"Jocelyn and her ancestors were isolated and quiet. They didn't get any enemies. The info on the Fairchild's disappears from there, anything about Jocelyn and Clary just gone."

"But why are you looking for old enemies? You think this was a long term thing?"

"Well, I can't think of any other reason Jocelyn would have deserted. Plus, being a deserter Jocelyn would have made a fact of lying low, she wouldn't have made any enemies. She might have had the one or two, but they wouldn't be on a murdering level. Also, Clary's first identity says she was put up for adoption when she was twelve."

"Poor kid," Isabelle cooed. Jace and Alec jumped, having not heard her enter, Isabelle turned to Alec, "Where's my coffee?" Alec stammered and Jace subtly hid the coffee mug behind one of the computer screens.

Jace turned to save his best friends ass, "He only came in with one mug." Okay, he was saving much his own ass as well as Alec's, but why not shoot two birds with one bullet?

Isabelle waved her arms, "You said you'd make me one! I'm sure you have short term memory loss you know!" she turned on her heel and walked over to the coffee machine on the other side of the office.

"You were saying?" Alec asked.

"Yeah, she was put up for adoption when she was twelve. But there's something strange. If your abandoned by your only parent when you're twelve you'd be pretty messed up wouldn't you? But no, she's gone out of the ordinary and ten years and nine identities later, she's built a company from nothing and she's earning the big bucks within four years. Sounds to me like she's been keeping in touch with her mum."

"Yeah but she doesn't seem like a grieving person, she's not so long since found out her mums dead."

Jace closed his eyes and rubbed his face, once again seeing Clary above him. The lust in her eyes, side by side with her anger, Jace had never questioned why she was angry before, she had enough to rant about, the three of them bursting into her office which was then shot to pieces and _then _turned to ashes. In fact, she had coped quite well. Actually, thinking about it, she had dealt with it as of it had happened before...

"Well, she is an angry person. If your run away mum that you've kept in contact with doesn't answer back, you'd be pretty angry."

"Good point."

Isabelle returned to them with a mug full of coffee, "Yeah, but think about it. It must be Jocelyn's enemy, she was a top Hunter, gets an extremely angry and extremely dangerous enemy, you disappear. He still carry's on finding you so you have to get a new ID. There can't be any other reason why they had to pack their bags every six months. And there can't be any other reason why a mother would suddenly drop their kid off at a nunnery and not come back right? Plus, Clary isn't really old enough to have such a serious enemy, at least not when she first had to pull a runner."

Alec stated, "We need to question Clary."

"Well, obviously." Jace snapped, suddenly angry. What would make Alec think that he could weed out Clary any better than he could? Actually, he wanted to be the one who did. Jace spun in his chair to look at Isabelle and Alec, "Here, let me question her."

Alec shrugged, he didn't think anything of it but behind his shoulder his sister's eyes narrowed. Her tone icy she asked, "Jace, a word please." Without waiting she turned on her heel and walked out of the door.

Jace grumbling in annoyance got up, and Alec said, "What's her problem?"

In some cases Alec was much more observant than Isabelle; scratch that, in most cases. But when it came to a man and a woman, Isabelle is god. She would look in a magazine and her and Magnus would look at the pictures and scribble notes all over the pictures of which celebrities they think are going to get together soon. Based on what, I hear you ask, the way they look at each other. Yes they look at pictures, see who's looking at each other, and then predict if they are hooking up.

The most frustrating thing, (besides the scribbles when you're trying to read the magazine), is that Isabelle is _always _right. It's unbelievable.

The psychic herself was leaning against the wall when Jace walked out of the office, shutting the door behind him.

He stood in front of her and shrugged, "I'm here, what do you want?"

Isabelle stared into his eyes with her own black ones big and wide, "Do you like Clary?"

"Do you?"

Her eyes narrowed, "Answer me." Jace was reminded that Clary didn't answer his question earlier.

Jace sighed and crossed his arms, pretending to consider, "Well, she has got a bit of a temper, she's a liar, she's got wacko's chasing her, she has a huge attitude, really bad fashion sense, and beside all that she's small and a red head, completely not my type. So I think she's going to be an okay friend, if she lives long enough, so, at the moment, no, not really."

"Jonathan Herondale don't you dare lie to me."

Pain cracked through Jace's already injured knuckles as Jace punched the wall next to Isabelle's head, Isabelle stood straighter and Jace saw her gulp, "Don't you dare," Jace growled, "call me Jonathan."

Empathy glowed in Isabelle's eyes, "Sorry Jace, I forgot. But answer me truthfully; I know you hate lying, almost as much as you hate that name."

Jace pushed off the wall and backed up away from Isabelle. He needed to remember that she and Alec's past were similar in certain aspects to his. He bowed his head and started to unwind the bandage on his hand, more so he had an excuse not to look at Isabelle than the need to do it, "Yeah," he admitted, "Yeah I do." _And only choirs of angels know why._

Isabelle took his hand and did the bandage quicker than he thought possible; once she finished the little knot it felt better and more secure. Jace took his hand back and looked at her, there was a type of pride in her eyes, and she replied to him, "Well, I can fix the fashion sense; we will make sure she doesn't die, and she can learn to walk in heel's."

Jace rolled his eyes at her. Isabelle grinned and said, "Something tells me curvy blondes aren't your thing anymore."

Jace grew sober; he started to think about Clary's past. What was her type?

Jace shook the self doubt from his head and started walking down the corridor. Jace was everybody's type, he heard Isabelle go back into the office. That girl could not keep her nose out of other people business.

He needed to find Clary, he wanted to question her without repeating last times...incident. God, he hadn't done anything like that before, and he doubted she had either. He had to admit there was something there.

Great, now he was becoming an optimistic.

Jace walked into the kitchen and groaned. Magnus was having yet another party. Bag's and bags of those 'bags for life' filled with blue and red and green coloured alcohol. There were a few bags of beer there. Jace noticed that there wasn't any food, thank god. The number of people who threw up last time was unbelievable. The smell had been nauseating. Jace had bought Chinese for a fortnight to avoid the kitchen at all costs.

Well, the kitchen was Clary free. He hoped that she hadn't already done a runner. A sense of urgency settled in his stomach at the thought.

Jace walked into the courtyard from a door in the kitchen. The courtyard was dominated by a huge fountain and was covered in gravel and flowers. Jace jogged from the courtyard to the tree line, he whistled high and loud.

As Jace waited for one of the dogs he looked for signs of Clary breaking through the tree line. He saw a few broken twigs and there were a few spots where the mud was unsettled but that could be the dogs.

He paced the tree line searching the ground quickly. Jace froze as his eyes settled on one small shoe print in the mud.

A growl sounded behind him, he turned to see Hutt, the second in command in the pack. The black dog, sleek and powerful was waiting for Jace, ready to start bounding through the woods to lead Jace to where the dogs no doubt had Clary surrounded.

Clary had run, and the pack was chasing her.

**So what do you think?**

**As you can probably tell, I'm much better at writing action that smut. Well, at least I think I am. I hope I am. Hmm...**

**Anyways, took me absolute yonks to write this, well, because I'm an AUNTY!**

**My niece – codename BabyBee – was born on the 6****th**** and during all the excitement I forgot all that I had planned for the chapter.**

**Sadly, this is the juiciest as it's gunna get because I can't write smut and I'd rather not write it and you miss it than it be there and you lot cringing over badly written sex scenes. :-{D**

**You want smut? Go read Cullen Campaign. ;-{D**

**Review,**

**FW:-{D**

**P.S. i have a twitter account, its ****Freaky Wierd**


	5. Chapter 5Boom Boom Boom Boom

**R+R...I can't think of anything else to say...**

The Lightwood's land was large, and the majority of it was a forest. The land was surrounded by a twenty five ft high wall and the pack of thirty loyal and highly trained dogs patrolled the land.

There was a lake in the south part, deep in the forest. There was a small trail leading to the pond, but it was difficult to find most of the time. The Lake was small, around the size of three stadium size football pitches. At the east side of the lake the water poured off into a water fall and at the North West side of the lake, a river opened up into it.

Unlike most lakes in the area, the bottom was gravel, so the water stayed clear and clean, reflecting the stars and trees. Sand and rocks and grass made up the banks, when trees weren't in the way.

Clary was catching up on her emotions, she allowed herself this now she was far away from the intimidating manor. She was weary of running and hiding, of having to start life over and over again.

She looked across the water; she was sat on a grassy bank, the water lapped at the edge a few feet away. The water lilies had bloomed, their white oily thin leaves opening up and spreading wide, sitting on big waxy green leaves. For the past twenty minutes she had been logging the life of a small frog which had been strutting about on a rock waiting for flies, when none had come, it hopped off.

Clary would love to paint this little scenic site, but she had no painting or drawing gear. She would have to ask someone, maybe Isabelle.

_It's safer in here than it is out there._ Jace had warned her.

Not from temptation.

Jace had become a problem. Clary was used to problems in her life. It was a problem that demons were after her. It was a problem than her mother had died. It was a problem that Simon loved her.

She was weary of problems.

It was a problem that she already knew that it was dangerous outside of the ground walls. It was also a problem that she was the danger.

Clary supposed it was in her blood to be a danger. On her mother's side was assassins, on her father's side it was a mystery, but she'd bet an arm and a leg that it was dangerous blood. She never knew her father but she had learned about the things he had done. Clary thought about what she had been forced to do, and she didn't regret it, she wasn't even remorseful.

Clary believed that her blood was the most dangerous combination. For her it was natural to be able to manipulate people, to give an order to kill. It was natural for her to seek demons and tell them to destroy. Clary could do difficult and ugly things that need to be done.

She shivered at the things she had done.

She was weary of being naturally cruel and lethal and possessive and manipulative.

But for now, she needed to think about more difficult problems...

It was worth repeating that Jace was a problem, a big problem, a really big problem. Pun absolutely intended. Actually, Jace was big everything.

He brought out the worst in her, and yet the best. He made adrenaline course through her veins and desires to open in her heart, she was attracted to him, being that close to him had felt right. Sharing is breath and tasting him. Jace was like her, and Clary loved that.

Clary groaned, this wasn't good, she thought. Not, good, at, all.

Clary hated the Hunter side of her; she much preferred the innocent and kind side of her. But Jace loved his wild and dangerous side, and for Clary that was amazing. He was embracing the side that she hated being, the side she didn't want to be. This made him complex, she knew he had a good side, the side she preferred being, which was the reason she ran. The idea of embracing the dark side of her was...intriguing.

Clary, by instinct, was wary of men, and she usually treated them cruelly. Her mother's past with men had been fights, tooth and nail. The men in Clary's life weren't of her kind, they weren't Hunters. The men in Clary's life had been cruel and heartbreakers, well, most of them. She may have not been brought with the Hunters, but she was brought up being a Hunter. Every time she met a demon it was her instinct to kill, or at least maim and haul its arse of to the police.

When Clary was hiding behind a mask, pretending to be innocent and weak, she was. She acted like she couldn't fight; she acted like she liked people. It wasn't that she hated them, she liked a lot of people, but when she returned to downworld she was a born leader.

And when she met someone like her, she knew it.

Jace was similar to her, he understood that sometimes, you needed to be cruel, that sometimes, you had to do ugly things, and be ugly to people. Clary had a feeling that Jace enjoyed it, and found it difficult to show his better side.

Her mother had taught her to be nice and to not manipulate people, but she could, and so could Jace. Clary knew that Jace could dominate her, that he could treat her like she deserved.

Every time Clary went near him, she could smell the pure _wild_ on him. The freedom he had, the carelessness and ease. Clary knew that he may act careless, but he never was. That his mind picked apart his actions the split second he did them.

Clary had two options, stay or run. Her mind said run, and her heart said stay.

If she ran, she would be in familiar territory, she wouldn't have to deal with the clave, she would be with her best friend Simon, and she could contact Maia. She wouldn't be watching the three Hunters constantly; she wouldn't be required to work for the Hunter's. She would be free of the downworld, for a few months at least.

If she stayed then she would be with Jace, Alec and Izzy, she would have a fixed job and be able to fight like she has always wanted to, open and legal. She wouldn't be on the run, starting a new career, and new life.

But they would find out Simons a vampire and they would realise Maia is a werewolf. It was quite unusual for Hunters and other cults to mix socially, which was why she was shocked to find Magnus and Alec in a relationship.

God it was confusing. Clary rubbed her forehead.

"Lost are we?" Clary spun from where she was, sat on the grassy bank. Jace was casually leaning against a wide tree trunk, arms crossed with a serious expression on his face.

Clary sighed, _Crap Clary! Get a hold, he's on your tail, you need to get away from him to run away tomorrow! _"I'm sure I could find my way back, how did you find me?"

Jace nodded his head across the lake. Clary turned and on the other side of the lake was a big black dog sat down. He stared unblinkingly at them. Jace whistled once and the dog turned and walked into the shade of the trees, before he walked out of Clary's sight range, the dog glanced at them over its shoulder for a last look, and then disappeared through the trees.

"You've been surrounded by them ever since you entered the forest. If you had been running they would have hunted you and taken you down."

Clary, knowing it was easier to lie to tell part truth, admitted, "I have postponed running away. Whoever's out to get me sure is determined."

"You've changed your tone."

Clary turned back to him, eyebrows arched, "What?"

Jace shrugged off the tree trunk, strolled over and sat down on the grass beside her with a small grunt. Clary noticed he still hadn't put a shirt on. She glanced at his face when she realised she was staring at him, but he was looking across the lake. He carried on, "For a while after we got out you were denying they were after you. Why?"

Clary was weary of this mask, she decided to take it off and her tone gathered a business edge, "I'll answer your question if you answer some of mine."

Jace looked over in surprise, his expression didn't change much, but his eye gathered a twinkle in it, "Fine. Who are you?"

"Too big a scope, be more specific."

"Fine, how many identities have you had?"

"Ten. How did Jocelyn Fairchild die?"

Jace cocked his head to the side, "Her body was found in an alley in the city, our researchers recognised her as one of our own and took over the case immediately, and Alec, Isabelle and I are trying to figure out who killed her. She was shot, untraceable bullet, clean shot at the back of the head."

Clary closed her eyes and breathed deeply. A warm hand wrapped around hers and squeezed gently. For a while nothing happened, but then realisation came to her and Clary snatched her hand back and looked at Jace incredulously, she hadn't reacted like she normally would, she hadn't snatched her hand back straight away. She usually only let certain people touch her; there were too many incidents where she had been hurt.

Jace feigned hurt and asked, "Was she your mother?"

"Yes. How much do you know about us?"

"Not much. Have you-,"

"Wait!" Clary snapped, "You didn't answer the question fully!" Jace frowned, so Clary carried on, "How is, 'not much' an answer?" She did the air quotes, laying the sass on heavy.

Jace grinned, and Clary just _knew _he was going to give smart ass, "I specifically remember you asking 'how much' and I answered 'not much'. That is a fine answer."

Clary glared at him, "Oh oh oh, no you don't! That is not a fine answer, not with me."

Jace shrugged. He had that infuriating grin back on, Clary's palm was tingling. She wanted to smack him again. "Fine, looks like you aren't going to be getting your answers."

"Come on don't play it like that."

Jace smiled and shrugged again, he said, "Fine, fine. Don't know anything about your mother's death."

"I know all I want to know."

Jace bowed his head down, "Anyway, I hope you're happy. You've given Magnus the perfect reason to throw yet another party, thus giving Izzy the perfect reason to use you as her doll."

"What?"

"Yep, a partay!"

"Is the Clave coming?"

Jace's head snapped up and he looked her in the eye. Clary felt blood gush into her face, why couldn't she just shut her trap? Jace's eyes darted over her blush but let it pass, "No, downworlder's mainly."

Clary relaxed. She had a lot of connexions with downworlder's. Maybe, just maybe, she could get away with them, it was an idea. She would have to contact Raphael. She thought about how she reassured Simon she could get away, he wouldn't be pleased.

Clary glanced at Jace, he was looking at her and he didn't look away, like she expected. Clary glanced away quickly.

They sat in an uncomfortable silence and Jace didn't stop looking at her, his gaze was heavy on her face, searching her eyes. After a few minutes the fate's seemed that it was enough torture for now, even though the dry humping had been a pleasurable torture. Jace's phone rang.

In a flash he had the phone to his ear but never stopped looking at her, "Isabelle."

Clary looked at him and frowned, she hadn't seen him check the screen. He carried on talking, "Yeah, she's here. No, Isabelle, you know me better than that. I'll be half an hour." Clary frowned at him, wondering what Isabelle could want him for and what she had been saying about her.

He closed the phone and grinned at her, "Izzy's taking you shopping, let's go."

~~MRARH~~

Clary had begrudgingly left the lake side, annoyed with Jace for interrupting her internal examination. When they emerged from the forest, at one glance at the small, barely visible grass stains on the insanely expensive designer jeans Isabelle casually told her to throw them and have a quick shower, much to Clary's astonishment. When Clary got out of the shower there were new clothes on the bed with Isabelle brandishing a pair of hair irons and a make-up bag.

Clary had to admit, once Isabelle had done, she looked good.

It was just her and Isabelle going shopping and Isabelle got to pick the car. She took Clary into the detached garage which revealed around twenty gleaming shiny new looking expensive cars. Isabelle just said that it came with the job. Clary half expected her to go for the swanky red convertible but instead Isabelle climbed into the blue Land Rover, surprisingly looking intimidating and comfortable. Almost like she belonged there, just like she could easily look like she belonged in the convertible.

Clary thought that Isabelle could look like she belonged anywhere.

Isabelle wasn't as much of a good driver as Jace, not as fast or as graceful, but her abilities still exceeded anyone Clary had driven with before. These must be three tough Hunters, and so far very competent in their job.

Isabelle took her to one of the few shopping centres in the city Clary had never been to. Again Isabelle surprised Clary when most of the shops were odd balls, not one chain shop in sight. Some shops were dark and sexy, others were stylish and seductive. The styles of the shops reminded Clary of the film 'practical magic' for some strange reason.

Isabelle bought Clary a black silk dress with pieces of white lace in different places. It stopped at her knees and hugged her small frame and they bought black stilettos tied on with black ribbon. Thankfully, Clary had long ago learned to walk in over seven inches heels to gain a little height when she had been going to places with any of her friends. Isabelle had taken Clary to a tiny shoe shop which was dark and murky, but with beautiful shoes. As Clary started looking, Isabelle warned Clary that she wasn't buying her anything fewer than seven inches, but not without a conspirators wink.

Once they had bought everything for the outfit, even a black and white broach, (which Clary feared was real diamonds and obsidian rock) Isabelle led Clary to a clothes shop, whose owner gave them a warm welcome and let Clary use the small dressing room as long as she bought something. When they tried it out all together Clary was in a black and white get up that said sexy and dangerous.

When Clary was growing up she was a tumbling clumsy shortie with ginger hair, but after certain incidents when she was twelve Jocelyn sent Clary to a man called Luke who ran with the wolves. He instantly knew who she was when she turned up at his door and started to train her. Now, she was a graceful sexy woman with hair the colour of fire.

But Clary soon found out what Jace was on about when he said 'good luck'. When Clary liked something, it had to have Isabelle's approval. But when Isabelle liked something, she didn't care for Clary's opinion. You tried it on or else. Then she dragged Clary along and bought her expensive gifts, and then made her wear them. This woman had more money than sense.

No, that wasn't it, Isabelle wasn't in a dream world where money didn't matter, she was both feet on the ground, but Clary was sure she was prepping her for a reason.

Finally at eight at night Clary and Isabelle collapsed in chairs outside of a little restaurant in the main square of the shopping area. Despite the time, everyone seemed to be just arriving as the crowds started to thicken. But Clary already knew that this was a downworlder's place. The signs were easy to spot, the effort to keep the usual shoppers away, the designs, the personal touch of the four cults to the things sold and places. Clary was sure that this was a place where the cults could speak clearly.

When Clary and Isabelle had eaten they went to a salon to get their hair and makeup done. They made Clary into what she hated being, she looked sexy and cruel; the word manipulative showed up a few times as well. When she stopped them half way through to making her hair into a crown on their head they changed it so she was more mysterious and dark. They left her hair down and put black thin ribbons in, along with glitter.

The salon let her and Isabelle change in the toilets and when they both came out they looked powerful and strange. They could both set on fire they were that hot, they both reminded Clary of the two sisters of practical magic, and then that got her thinking about Isabelle being her sister and thought about the impossibility, they were too different. Once they came out looking gorgeous the salon decided to darken their eyes, Isabelle, to match with her purple and black palette, well, purple, and dark red for Clary. She wasn't sure why Isabelle told them to try it, but it worked, it was almost black, but it made her hair seem brighter.

Isabelle drove back to the institute where the party was already in full swing. She drove around the side of the house and parked at the edge of the courtyard. She explained to Clary that she didn't want to make a big entrance and attract too much attention.

The kitchen had a few people in laughing and drinking, Magnus had hired a bartender for the night, and he had set up a portable bar behind the table. They walked in and homed in on the vodka, both of them. Hmm, maybe, Clary thought, Isabelle and she had more in common than she had originally thought.

On an unspoken agreement they stuck together, wowing people with a sex on legs duo act. Clary was glad that she only came up to Isabelle's chin and not shoulder. Isabelle walked to the main greeting hall were the room was dark and the lights pulsed, there were a lot of people here, so the entrance hall was serving as a club. They stood together at the side of the make shift dance floor and within a minute they were being approached by people. The first was a fair folk; he went by the name Meliorn.

Beside Clary Isabelle bristled, and Clary tensed. Meliorn, with his usual bodyguards, stood in front of them.

"Mel," Isabelle sneered at him.

Meliorn nodded tensely at Isabelle but directed his attention to Clary. She sighed and offered him his hand; he bowed and kissed the back of it. He kept hold of it as he said, "Clarissa, what a pleasure it is to see you again."

Clary frowned at him, "Yes, well, that make one of us." And she slipped her hand out of his and turned her back slightly away from Isabelle, as a feeling of privacy, but no way was Clary leaving Isabelle's side while 'Mel' chatted her up. He could tell her about the position that is mainly left vacated but is always available for her to take, should she want to. And about whom she was while she had that seat.

"Isabella," Meliorn said in a seductive tone, "don't you miss me?"

"Ha!" she snarled, "remember Mel, it was me who dumped your ass, you should be missing me."

"People have been talking, and you have not been your usual prowling self."

Isabelle laughed, "Yeah, you sure _exhausted _me." Clary was pretty sure that was a dig at Meliorn's skills in the bed.

Clary had to turn and face Meliorn's red face. At the sight Clary and Isabelle burst into laughter.

The second to approach them was Raphael, along with Camilla. Clary left Isabelle with Camilla while she talked with Raphael.

Raphael was annoyed with her, "Everyone's been looking for you, the body's still haven't been recovered from the building yet and the guy with the machine gun, the police have him. But we had a feeling you would have escaped, but with Hunters?"

"Hey, Raph, you know I was brought up as a Hunter so don't you dare start ringing that bell again! You know I will win. They just showed up in my studio and then a swinger shot my office into no tomorrow, and just to make it even harder, set fire to the building. The three of them were there; I thought I might as well use them. Now, can you get me out of here?"

"To do what, run away from what's offered to you, again?"

"You already know the answer to that."

"You're doing what you do best, you're going hunting."

"Raphael," Clary warned, "What did you expect? And you should be glad that I hunted down my father or you wouldn't be living!"

Raph hissed and rubbed his face, "Have you ever considered working with the Hunters?" I blanched at the idea. "Listen, think about it, I know your sick of running, and I know you don't trust them but do you think these three trust who's in charge? They're wild cards, the three of them, but they're good at what they do, too good to rid of. But it's a government operation, there's going to be different sides to take in it. Anyway, if you do end up running, you have disappearing down to a science; it wouldn't be too hard for you to bail."

"That's true; I am somewhat of an expert."

"Just think about it. I'm sorry Clary, I know I owe you, but I would be putting my life on the line by helping you run. These three," he just shook his head and laughed under his breath, "well, these three are feared in the downworld. They aren't high in the ladder but let's just say they can get their noses stuck in any case they want. There are a lot of rumours about them circulating. There is no way of telling truth or lie, but remember, all rumours have some truth in them."

Clary let out a frustrated breath as Raphael melted into the dancing mass as soon as he took three steps away. But Clary knew not to take his advice for granted; he was quite wise from his experiences.

But she didn't want to think about it right now.

She turned around and caught Isabelle's eyes, gesturing that she was going to get a drink, and then headed for the kitchen. Magnus sure did know how to attract the crowds. The entrance hall had been turned into one of the best clubs she'd been to, with smoke, sweat, and pulsating lights. Oh great, and the music had just been turned up to ear splitting.

Clary felt that this was a party, and she should just let go and join in with the swarm of people. The dim lights allowed for quick grabs by the cheeky one or two but the people high up knew her, and they had warned their lesser to not try me.

Clary had to admit that one of the reasons that she was attracted to Jace was the fact that she knew he would be a tough opponent.

She reached the kitchen and watched as some young wolves opened a fresh bottle of vodka, poured half of it into a big bottle which was connected to a tube and put it back down while the drinker chugged. The guy pouring put the bottle put it down next to him. It was in Clary's hands within seconds. She found some Coke and opened a fresh bottle, filling the vodka bottle up to the top.

After the bottle, and considerably drunk, Clary's shoulders sank when the bottle became empty. She was warm and fuzzy all over but she needed a bit more courage to dance. She walked over to the makeshift bar that the hired bartended had put together. Clary slammed her palm down and yelled, "Hit me with your hardest!"

He grinned and winked at her. A small glass of blue appeared in front of her a few moments later. She glugged it and slammed the glass down. "That all you can give me?"

His smile widened and another glass appeared, then another after another, Clary refused to back down. A crowd slowly gathered around her and she ignored the whispers as the vamps and the warlocks recognised the drinks. Each new drink was stronger than the next. Soon she was overcome with the strength as it hit the back of her throat and burned her nose. She smacked the glass on the table and sputtered a bit, making a face like she had a lemon in her mouth, unable to keep a straight expression.

Cheers for the bartender echoed around her. A voice sounded behind her and exclaimed, "Oh Clary, almost there but I am still the reigning master over the bartender." Clary looked at the bartender for confirmation over Jace's claim and was surprised to see the death glare he was giving Jace. He bent behind his little bar and brought up ten shot glasses. Then he started to assemble unlabeled bottles on the desk, only illegible black scribbles confirmed what they were to the bartender.

Jace smirked at Clary and her drunken expression. She glanced at him as he settled onto a stool beside her. Apparently this was a common occurrence at Magnus' party's, Jace and the bartender having shot wars.

Shot after shot the bartender gave Jace, Jace drowned them, the smirk constantly on his lips. On his fifth one, the look in his eyes told Clary he was nearly as drunk as she was as he silently toasted her. Whenever the bartender mixed the drinks in the bottles and the drink changed a funky colour Clary would order it, or if for once Jace seemed slightly over come she ordered it.

Jace gulped all ten shots, to Clary's astonishment. She had only managed eight and that was saying something. Everyone was cheering for Jace now.

Because she had consumed more than enough courage, not to mention recklessness, she grabbed Jace's hand and they both made their way to the entrance hall where the swaying bodies pressed against each other as they danced. Clary led Jace into the middle of the mob and they started dancing.

Alls Clary was aware of was Jace's body pressed tightly against hers, his hands running all over her body, her hands running through his hair, the feel of his breath as he softly whispers seductive things in her ear that she never quite caught.

They danced until they were covered in sweat and were out of breath. Jace wrapped his arms around Clary and they walked so close to each other as they walked through the crowd to get even more drinks.

In the kitchen more wars with the Bartender were going down. The bartender was winning every one of them. Knocking some down after eight glasses or even two as the contester tried to keep a straight face as they swallowed the burning alcohol. Jace could only ever beat him.

"Stay here, I'll get us drinks." Jace whispered in my ear. I was amazed I heard him because they were ringing from the pounding bass in the club.

Clary leaned against the wall, revelling in the feeling of just swaying with the crowd, not making a conscious effort to blend in or move quietly. She and Jace had basically dry humped each other on the dance floor, my god it was good dancing when you're absolutely bladdered.

She inhaled as a small fresh breeze hit her, and she realised with polite curiosity that she was stood near the French doors that led onto the courtyard. Clary stumbled out into the courtyard and slipped as the gravel shifted under her feet.

Yes, she was extremely drunk if she was losing such a forced habit of balance.

Outside was dark and cool, Clary walked away from the lights and noises from the kitchen and to the huge fountain. There wasn't anyone else around, it was quiet and dark. Clary stepped into the fountains water, not bothering to untie the stilettos and she lay back on the big ledge.

She sighed and gazed at the stars, thinking of the planets that orbited them, so far away. A few minutes later Jace sat down on the ledge next to her and offered her a whiskey glass full of clear liquid. She sat up, so they were facing the other way but turned towards each other, and accepted the drink.

"Thanks for the dance." Jace told her.

Clary snorted, "I'd call it more of a dry shag."

Jace's teeth gleamed white in the dark as he grinned. "Well, thanks for the dry shag, but I have to say they're much better wet."

"My feet are wet, does that count."

"So they are, but I was thinking about something higher."

"My hairs wet with sweat," Clary admitted. She turned around so their knees were next to each other and put her glass down on the side of the fountain. She lay back on the ledge until her hair was floating in the frigid water.

"Hmm, so it is," purred Jace.

He traced his fingers across her stomach and she sighed. She sat back up, her hair dripping wet down her back.

Jace's hand lifted and he moved the wet strands from her face. His hand cupped her face. He brought his glass up to her lips and let her sip; she pulled a face after she'd swallowed, "What the hell is that!"

"The reason I told you to wait by the door. It's what the bartender tried to throw me off with as a last resort." There was a fucking smirk in his voice, thought Clary.

"It's in a whiskey glass." Clary pointed out helpfully. "You just said it's a shot."

"And, so is yours." Clary looked down at her untouched glass and thought about what she desperately wanted to do with Jace. For that, she would need all of the courage she could get.

She lifted her glass to her lips, quirked an eyebrow and drank a mouthful, wincing as it slid down her throat.

Jace grinned and chugged his down in one. Clary thought that to drink with ease like that took more than familiarity, and she wondered how he didn't get fat.

Once their glasses were down they returned into the kitchen.

Clary realised what would help her get over the hidden grief, raging inside her, because of her mother's death. It was one combination...

Drink and Jace.

~~MRARH~~

Her mind hurt like a wrecking ball and it felt too heavy, disproportioned from the rest of her body.

Shockingly, her stomach felt settled, and then she wondered if she had been sick in bed.

Her throat felt swollen, even her lips felt swollen, she needed a drink, but of water.

It took a while for these things to register because she felt right. Just _right _for once. No need to worry or complain. She felt, fuck she felt amazing.

So, she had made one huge fuck of a mistake last night. She just wondered who the lucky fella was. Heck, she must have been a lucky girl because crap in a bucket she felt...unbelievable, well, downstairs anyway. Upstairs she felt like the crap that was in the bucket.

Groggily she became aware of arms, arms around her, warm and strong.

_Shitting Nora! _Clary could bet her life she knew who was next to her. It was obvious who it was going to be, because drunken mistakes are the worst kind.

She quit trying to open her eyes and just buried deeper into the guys chest. She recalled memories last night, heavy breath, _the pleasure, _touches and ferocious kisses. Finally she opened her eyes and looked into Jace's peaceful face and sighed.

Of course...

Clary sat up, stark naked and her head pounded. Jace stirred, mumbled something and wrapped his arms around her waist burying his head into her stomach. Giving up she curled up around his head, and then she realised...

She still had her stilettos on.

**Yep, I went the drunken way. I feel like I need to explain my choice, firstly, most story's that I have read on Fan Fic hold off the sex until the very end of the story, like Edward Wallbanger or Mens Rea (I do realise that these are twilight fics but I am not very well read with Mortal Instruments fic yet, I've read about five.) Going off on a tangent there, my point is that they hold off the sex, this is to create **_**suspense **_**and a **_**need to keep reading, **_**but note that the crap story's do this very badly, and that most fic's that do this are crap and painful to read. I feel that I am not a good enough writer to keep it up or do it justice. **

**Also, it might have been last chapter or the one before that, I noted I am not good at writing smut, and by this I mean I get writers block and the work is vague and is basically a string of naughty words that doesn't make sense, also, having a crazy imagination as mine I have **_**never**_** had writers block before. So I needed to do the smut without writing the smut, but I wanted a reason for the gap when there's boom boom in Jace's room room. **

**Simple...alcohol.**

**I was going to add drugs but having never taken drugs before, and not wanting too, I just stayed in too familiar territory. **

**Now, if you have skipped the big explanation, I quite frankly, don't blame you. But I give waffle, and I can seem to stop it. **

**R+R **

**FW:-{D **

**(ps. Boom Boom Boom Boom, I want you in my room!)**

**(pps. Who sung that?)**


	6. Chapter 6Risks and Bruises

**So, I can't remember telling you but these characters are OOC. And the thoughts of them are gunnar be soppy. Oh and a warning, these characters are in a bad mood and there's going to be a lot of swearing because they can't keep their mouths shut even though it makes their heads worse. ;-{D **

I think it's safe to say Jace was in it deep, really deep. He woke with a sense of warmth and true happiness, the truest happiness in a while. In fact, it took him a while to realise he shouldn't be glad he shagged Clary. But God, he was fucking glad he'd shagged Clary.

He knew he was going to, and he was going head first into trouble, but last night, he'd thought fuck it and threw his dignity out of the window. He remembered walking into the kitchen and seeing her playing shots with the bartender in that fucking dress and he had wanted her.

So what did he do, he showed off, got wasted and stuck by her side until she was absolutely wasted as well.

After downing ten shots they danced and my god if he hadn't got a semi, so he got drunk some more, and more, and more. He knew that Clary must have been even more wasted than him, but he hadn't been able to think to stop.

And next thing he knew he felt great, despite the fact he felt he'd been run over by a train.

He lay there for a while, trying to remember last night without getting hard, but he couldn't so he got up and saw those killer stiletto's that she was still wearing, so he went to shower.

Right now the water pounded on his head making his head ache worse. He wasn't even in his own bathroom; he was in one of the spare guest rooms in the manor. He pressed his hot forehead against the cool white bathroom tiles and let the water run down his skin in rivulets.

What the fuck was he going to do? He knew this wasn't some normal drunken mistake; he planned to get wasted so he could use it as an excuse for fucking a woman he barely knew. For reasons unfathomable, he wanted Clary, even when he'd had her. She wasn't extraordinarily pretty or sexy or...fuck, he didn't know why he was just drawn to her, and his head fucking hurt.

Cutting of the water he stepped out of the shower and walked over to the mirror. He wiped his hand across the cool glass so he could see himself. What the hell was he doing? He knew what he was doing, acting as if it was out of his control, but maybe it was, maybe it wasn't.

Yesterday, he wanted her, today, he still wanted her. What did that say? He didn't know, maybe he needed another line of direction. How about, when he went into that bedroom and Clary woke, what did he want her to say? He didn't want her to say no, but did that mean he wanted her to say yes? Did he want them to be together?

There was only one way to find out.

He wrapped a soft white fluffy towel around his waist and hesitated before pulling the bathroom door handle down and walking into the room. He looked at Clary, who was lay on the bed, in his shirt, with her shoes carelessly thrown on the floor beside the bed. She breathed deeply, exhaled and her eyes opened. He was aware of her; ever move she made and everything she touched.

Their eyes locked, and something unreadable passed between them. Jace sighed and sat down on the chair at the clear dressing table watching her.

"So," she joked, "three guesses to what we did last night."

Jace smirked, "Shit, what the fuck are we going to do?"

Her eyebrows shot up, "Please, explain, I'm confused." Jace realised that he might have offended her. He needed to explain.

"Clary, your part of my assignment, shit I literally fucked an assignment!"

Clary's cool laugh echoed throughout the room. "You think you the only one in the shit hole? I can't run away now, I'm in too fucking deep. Not only have I been found fucked and filed, I'm an assignment. Be a miracle if I could get away now." Jace watched her, he knew she was making up radical decisions on this conversation, he wondered what it was he had said that made her want to stay.

Clary rolled onto her stomach to look at him, her sexy bed head hair falling around her face, "Do, you think that if I joined the Hunters they would let me work with you?"

Jace looked at her, stumped, was she, shit, was she saying she wanted to stay with him? "Well, err, you don't join, they sort of press gang you I suppose."

Her green eyes glinted in amusement as she gave a wicked little grin, "Idiot, my parents were both Hunters. They'll want me after all these years me and my mother have been running away."

Jace watched her closely, her expression faltered slightly, she was still grieving. Jace thought that she had probably gotten wasted and used him as part of her grief process, let's just say down south wasn't complaining. It was actually pretty pleased with itself.

Jace and Clary sat in a few moments of silence, deep in their own thoughts. What if Clary thought nothing of what they did last night, what would Jace do? If the only girl he had ever met who had piqued his interest wasn't interested in him. Move on probably, to a big blonde or something, after getting jealous of whoever she dated. But it was what if she was interested that he didn't know the answer to. He wouldn't turn her away of course, but he just didn't know what else to do about it.

Of course he wouldn't hide the fact that they were together, but what would the clave say? They would probably try and control her life, which I doubted they could do. Fuck that, what did he, Jace Herondale, care what the clave thought? Would the three become four? He hoped they would, the thought of Jace, Clary, Alec and Isabelle seemed right to him, but would it to Clary?

Jesus lord, Mary and Joseph, this whole general touchy feely thing was complicated. Jace's gaze snapped to Clary as she stood up, her pale skin cream against his shirt, and she walked to the bathroom. She glanced over at Jace, "Shower." The one word explained it.

The bathroom door closed and Jace was left in the room alone with just a towel on. He sighed and let the towel drop to the floor as he stood up. He searched for his boxers and found them under the bed along with Clary's lingerie that he regretted not remembering her in. Once he had those on, his boxers not Clary's lingerie, the hunt for his trousers began. He found them in the hallway outside the door along with Clary's dress.

Once he had his belt buckled he opened the bathroom door slightly and threw in Clary's dress and lingerie as the steam poured out of the room. He heard her echo of thanks and resisted glancing in. Once he was in the bedroom again he found a sock under the duvet, just as he was pulling it on his phone began to ring. He checked his pants pockets but it wasn't in there, it wasn't in his shirt that was in the bathroom.

Following the sound Jace found it in his shoe in the bedside table, he was surprised at where he was finding things, they must have been extremely drunk.

At a glance he knew it was Isabelle and realised that it was quite early in the morning. He answered it, "What Isabelle."

"Ooh, touchy, touchy, I thought that _you _would be in a good mood."

"Stop being such a dick, I've got the biggest hangover of my life so you're going to have to spell things out for me."

"Pfft, I saw you with Clary last night, she with you?" Jace laughed at her. "Jace, why are you laughing? I thought getting laid put you guy's in a good mood."

Chuckling Jace said, "Oh no, it does, but to be honest I don't think you want to know what form of happiness getting laid comes in."

Isabelle snorted, "The hangover cancelling out your buzz huh?"

Jace sniffed, "Unfortunately."

Isabelle snorted, "Yeah well, so I'm guessing she's there with you?"

"Well done Isabelle, you can finally read between the lines. She's in the shower."

"Her lap dog Simons here and he's bloody as hell. Found him on the road this morning when I was going to the corner shop for some pain killers."

Jace got over the shock quickly, his mind going into business mode and analysing the possibilities, "The people who went after Clary's mother, probably. Maybe a family enemy and they're taking the women out one by one, first Jocelyn and now they can't get to Clary they've gone after the closest person to her."

"Yes but there were no clear enemies in Clary's family."

"On her mother's side, but what about her father's? Who is her father?" It only just struck Jace at that moment; they didn't know who her father was. He had never even pondered who it was.

"We don't know. But my guess is that if Clary's mum's dead and if it is the same people and they have resorted to Clary's puppy to get to Clary that her dad's already dead."

"What state is Simon in, what happened?"

Isabelle sighed dramatically, "Looks from the marks that he was beat up before they ran him over, he's unconscious, and we've scanned him to see for any internal bleeding, but other than a concussion, so far so good. Magnus knocked him out with some local aesthetic and he's in one of the guest rooms near the kitchen. Alec's flushing everyone out. Maybe you should come over with Clary and we can try and figure this out."

"Yeah, I think she's coming onto our side, something about not being able to hide. Anyway, I'll be over soon, I'll have to break it to Clary."

Before Isabelle could tease him further he cut her off. He sat on the edge of the bed, one hand holding his phone, the other his shoe, one sock half on and the other lost somewhere in the room. The bathroom door open and Clary came in with damp skin and dripping hair still arranging her dress.

Jace stood up looking at her. She frowned at him, "Jace, what's wrong?"

He sighed and walked over to her, running his hands up her arms to cup her face, "Clary," his tone wary, "it's Simon. Isabelle found his on the road this morning, he's in a bad state."

Her big green eyes searched his for a while, her face expressionless, and then she buried her head into his shoulder and started crying. As soon as he wrapped his arms around her it felt like his chest was collapsing, his heart shattering. This was possibly the worst experience of his life, and that was saying something. He listened to Clary sob into him, helpless.

He ran his hands through her hair and bowed his head, whispering things in her ear, "He was lucky, he's just got a few scrapes and a bump on the head. He's asleep, not in much pain." Jace swayed her slightly from side to side, trying to comfort her, "Baby, don't cry baby, it isn't bad we'll catch whoever did this, and who got to your mum. Shhh."

"I want to go see him." She said through her sobs, "Just let me, let me stop crying." Jace realised that she was probably embarrassed that she broke down on him. Ever since he met her she had always put up a strong front. To show that she was crying must have felt awful for her, and she didn't want more people see that she had been.

He simply nodded and kissed her temple. She sighed and wrapped her arms around him, relaxing into him. "Is he really bad?" she whispered.

"No, just bled a little and acquired a nasty bump on the head-,"

"Jace, don't fuck around. What happened?"

He sighed, realising that Clary wasn't one to take things watered down, he should have realised that from the shots last night, "We think he was knocked about a bit, and then they ran him over. Isabelle found him on the road early morning."

She nodded and breathed deeply, she pulled away from him and said, "Right, let's get this over with."

They were near Jace's tower; they must have been on their way to there when they gave up for a guest room. When they passed the kitchen Alec caught up with them, giving Jace a scolding look and scowling at Clary, she didn't seem to notice. Jace didn't think much of it, Alec didn't like many people.

"How are you this fine hangover?" Jace asked him with fake cheerfulness.

Alec grunted, "Been better. Simon and Isabelle are in the third room on the right. I need to get all the strangers out of the institute."

"Why can't Magnus do it?" Jace was sick of Alec always being pulled away from work one way or another. It gave Isabelle and him more work to do.

"Magnus is in an alcohol induced coma." Alec seemed to share a private joke with himself. Magnus often talked in his sleep when he was drunk.

Jace snorted and waved at Alec, sensing Clary's anxiousness. As he walked she stayed behind him, as if she was scared of what she would see, and Jace could shield her from it. He wished he could.

Jace opened the door to see a normal guest room turned into a more homely hospital room. The double bed had been swapped with a single, which was covered with taut white sheets. A drip had replaced the bedside table, the tubes snaking into Simon's arms. The rest of the room was the norm, at least for an unused guest room at the institute.

Jace and Clary were the only ones awake in the room. He stayed near to the side of the room, watching Clary as she slowly approached Simon. He looked different from what Jace remembered, probably because his face was black and blue and swollen. One of his eyebrows was bulging and cracked.

Clary just stood there and watched him. Suddenly she grabbed an empty coffee cup, most likely Isabelle's, and hurtled it against the wall near the bathroom door. It shattered against the wall in a cloud of ceramic shards and powder.

She turned to Jace, who stood there watching respectfully, shirtless with his hands hanging by his side, face expressionless. Clary hissed, "We have to find out who did this! When I get my hands on them! I mean," She started pacing anxiously, "Who would do something like that? Simons harmless, he's not even all that powerful."

She cut off and turned slowly on her heel to face Jace with wide eyes, "It was to get to me. Those bastards!" and then her shrieks turned into a meaningless babble as she paced.

As Clary passed by Jace he grabbed her arm and turned her towards him, he cupped her face and kissed her. She shut up immediately, quietening the din in Jace's head.

He broke off and put his forehead on hers, "Listen baby, I promise we will get whoever did this to Simon."

"What do you care about it?"

"I care that I like you, I like you a lot and Simons hurt and that hurts you, that's what I care about it." There, he'd jumped out of the frying pan and into the boiling pot. This head ache was seriously messing with his head. He had an urge to go and tap into Simons drip.

Silence greeted his sudden announcement. After an awkward minute that seemed to last an age, Clary blew out breath and nodded, "Okay, I believe you."

The bedroom door opened and Jace looked at who it was. Isabelle stood in the doorway watching Jace and Clary carefully.

"Good morning Isabelle," Jace said politely, his thumb stroked Clary's cheek and he dropped his hands from her head.

"Jace," said Isabelle, her eyes glinting as they rested on Clary, "Clary."

Clary blushed, god she blushed! Clary nodded at Isabelle and asked, "Shouldn't we take him to a hospital or something?"

Isabelle shrugged, "We have all the scanners and equipment here and we don't want to stir up trouble in Downworld right now by taking a Downworlder to hospital." Isabelle paused and gave Clary a pointed look, "He is a Downworlder right?"

Clary nodded, "He belongs to the Vamp cult."

Isabelle sighed, "So he'll have enemies anyway?"

Jace hadn't thought of that, Simon might have just run into a group of werewolves that were leaving the party and had stumbled upon him waiting for Clary. Jace rubbed his face with frustration.

"What," Clary snapped, "What do you mean by that? Simon never had any enemies."

Jace laughed, "She means the little feud Vamps and Wolves have against each other. The first suspect we have is the people who got your mother."

"You know who they are?"

Jace frowned, "That is something that will change very soon."

Clary shrugged and sat in the chair next to Simon's bed. "So let me get this straight. So far you have two victims who have possibly the same attacker, my mother and Simon. Because they're both connected to me I'm the first person to question."

"That's about right."

Clary massaged her forehead, "Right, who are your suspects."

Isabelle walked over to the window and looked out of it while she spoke, "No names, but we think it's probably a family enemy or something. There's no enemies on your mother's side that we can find but we don't know who your father is-,"

"You don't?" Clary interrupted.

Isabelle watched her closely, "No, when your father disappeared, whoever he was, he made sure that his name was wiped of everywhere. Who is your father?"

Clary snorted, "It _was _Valentine Morgenstern. He died around three maybe four years ago."

Jace's jaw dropped. The most feared man that the clave has ever met was this little woman's father. Jace had been taught of him in school, and how he was an evil on this world that hated and despised, and he had been taught to memorize his face, so that if he ever met him, he would know and be able to kill him.

And he was her father, the man who disappeared better than Houdini was Clary's father.

Last night he had fucked Valentine Morgenstern's daughter.

Isabelle stammered, "But, but how do you know this man's dead? What if he's the one doing this?"

Clary nodded ruefully, "Well, seeming as I watched while he was shot in the heart and then watched as I helped bury his body six feet under in the middle of the night I'm pretty sure I know. My mother always said 'Anything that goes wrong Hunters will blame on Valentine Morgenstern.'" Clary shook her head again, then stopped and rubbed her temples.

Jace watched her in amazement, "You," he told her, "Are not the person I thought you were when I first met you."

Clary shrugged, "I don't like being this person, and I'm too... too much like my dad I suppose."

Isabelle sat on the edge of Simon's bed, "What was he like?"

Clary shrugged, "I didn't really know him, my mother brought me up and Valentine chased us. We ran, I know that he did awful things to my mum, injected her with drugs and all of that. Eventually I got sick of running and pooled my resources and ordered a kill on him. I was with the guys who did the deed at the time. Even those few moments I knew him personally I didn't like him. Then four years of peace you guys come along and get me shot at."

Simon coughed, "And to think, I stuck with you through all of that."

Jace watched as Clary's head shot up, she grinned at Simon and touched his hand, "Yes, you did. And now look what's happened to you. No matter what we do or where we go there's always someone after us."

"I knew you'd blame this on yourself."

Isabelle asked, "Who did do this to you."

Simon sucked in a breath, "Demons. Came to my apartment disguised as police and, well, I think you can tell from my appearance. They knocked me out and the next thing I know I wake up on a road, I tried to stand up and lights were suddenly there and I was in the air. Then I woke up to Clary telling her lovely past of flowers and butterflies."

"Shut up." She tried half heartedly.

From where Jace was standing, he saw Simon grin. Jace was jealous, yes, actually jealous. Simon had all of these memories with Clary and he had one which he couldn't even remember.

Simon joked, "Shouldn't I be in a hospital or something?"

Isabelle sighed, "No need, we can offer everything a hospital can, plus quicker service."

"You're a doctor?" He asked impressed.

"No, but Magnus knows how to use all the machines and how to treat people, his family used own a hospital and he was required from a very small age to learn."

Jace sighed, sick of this meaningless babble and for some reason other than the racking hangover he had he was very annoyed, "Well, despite how stimulating this conversation is I am going to find head ache tablets."

Jace stood and made his way to the door, just as he was going to pull the handle down he heard Clary say behind him, "Wait, I'll go with you."

Jace turned and held the door open. She seemed happier, still furious, but happy. He closed the door behind him and he walked behind her as they walked to the kitchen.

Clary walked in the kitchen and gasped.

Jace asked, "What?" The question died on his lips as he came to stand behind her and he could see the kitchen.

It was even worse than last time, the bartender had packed up and left but there were empty bottles and plastic cups everywhere. Glass littered the floor where people had dropped bottles and glasses. The fridge and cupboards gaped open like they were the ones with hangovers, their contents spewed all over the kitchen.

"Well," Jace said, "I'm not cleaning any of this up."

Clary nodded, "A good plan would to be run and hide, or to phone a cleaner. How can a kitchen this big get so messy?"

Jace grinned at her. Alec had already flushed the partiers from the kitchen and so when he picked his way across the kitchen he only had to avoid the rubbish and glass, oh, and a popped basket ball, instead of drunken people.

He heard a stumble behind him and then something small pressed against the centre of his back. Behind him Clary gasped in pain.

"Clary?" Jace asked, "You okay?"

He turned around and Clary was cradling her arm. How on earth had she managed to cut the inside of her fore arm? He looked to the counter next to them to see shards of glass spread across it.

"What happened?" He asked, he gently took Clary's arm to inspect the damage. It was thankfully just a long shallow graze, but it was bleeding a hell of a lot.

"I tripped on that basket ball and tried to steady myself in the counter and you, but it's wet and my hand slipped."

Jace glanced at the counter, a great puddle of clear liquid rested on top, "So it is," He muttered, "Come on." He grabbed Clary's waist and hauled her up into a bridal hold. She giggled which caused Jace to snort at her.

"What?" She asked him.

Jace grinned down at her, "Nothing, I just didn't take you as a giggling kind of woman."

She playfully smacked his shoulder, "Shut it Buff."

Jace snorted at her again. He was actually quite surprised at how light Clary was. He carried her over to the kitchen sink and sat her on the counter next to it, making sure that it wasn't wet. Trust party goers to not wet the counter next to the water supply but the counter on the other side of the room.

Jace stood in front of Clary and reached up to grab the medical kit on top of the over head cupboard. He jerked back and Clary's hands tickled the bare skin of his stomach. She laughed at the expression on his face.

"Do you mind?" Jace mocked, "I am trying to get the medical kit for _someone _who can't avoid a basket ball." His tone was serious but he had a grin plastered on his face that he couldn't seem to wipe off.

"I'm sorry," Clary said, "I just can't resist temptation, it's your own fault for not wearing a shirt."

Jace finally managed to get the medical box and placed it next to Clary. He grabbed her waist and pulled her to the edge of the counter; she opened her legs so he could drag her to the edge of the counter and stand right in front of her.

Their faces were centimetres apart, Jace said in a husky voice, "Temptation huh?"

"Mmmhm," She said, watching his mouth.

Jace grinned at her, "Well, it's a coincidence that I can't resist damsels in distress; now let's get you bandaged up, huh?"

Clary tutted and smacked his arm. He grinned devilishly at her and opened the box getting what he needed from it. Gently her took her wrist and cleaned it, when he put the antiseptic on the cut she hissed and fisted her hand, but she didn't jerk away. He put gauze on it and wrapped a bandage on it, tying it with a secure knot.

He looked up at her to find their heads close together again, Clary had a mischievous glint in her eyes and was chewing her lip, she whispered, "Thank you."

Jace smiled at her, wondering what she was up to. Deciding to toy with her he dragged her butt to the edge again but kept his hands on her hips, running his fingers down her thighs. Using the same tone he said, "You're welcome."

But she had caught on and grabbed the waist band of his jeans and pulled him even closer, teasing his stomach with a much more seductive touch this time. She smiled when Jace hummed, making her lips part.

Jace closed the smallest space between them and kissed her, the kiss quickly became hot and full of frustration. Her arms went around his neck and her hands buried deep in his hair, pulling on it. He growled and curled his arms around her torso, pressing her body into his. He felt her legs wrap around him and he kissed her harder. Their lips were soft and hard, their breath whooshing together and mixing as their tongues danced across each other.

Clary bit his lip softly which caused him to moan. He kissed along her jaw to her ear and then down her throat.

A crash at the kitchen door caused Jace to whip around; he was breathing heavily and had a slight wild look in his eyes. In the door way Magnus stood looking bad. He stumbled to the fridge and pressed the water button. When no glass appeared to catch the water he said, "Fuck it," and twisted his head to squeeze into the tiny gap enough to catch the water in his mouth.

"Good morning Magnus." Jace said carefully.

After a good drink Magnus emerged from the water dispenser gap wiping his mouth. He said bitterly, "Oh please, go ahead with the porn show lucky little bastards. How do you never get sick when you have a hangover?"

Jace smirked at him, truthfully, he didn't know why. But whenever he had a terrible hangover, he was never sick. Jace shrugged at Magnus, which caused Magnus glare at him.

Jace liked Magnus, but when they both had banging headaches and big hangovers, neither of them was in the best of moods nor did they get along, they both reverted to teasing each other and petty strikes.

"You have a patient anyway Magnus. You need to go and check on Isabelle's handy work, tell her I'm going back to bed." Jace told him, knowing Magnus would go and make sure Isabelle was not killing Simon.

"Fine," He turned around and walked out of the kitchen not giving them a second glance.

Alone again Jace turned around and pecked Clary on the lips. "I'm going to sleep off my hangover. Join me?"

Jace could see the desire is Clary's eyes; she chewed on her lip, "But what about Simon?"

"You can always tell him you're going to sleep off you're hangover." To try and sway her he started to kiss along her jaw and neck. Clary stroked Jace's cheek and sighed.

"I don't know, it's and bit insensitive."

"Why, you can't do much by sitting next to him and snapping at him with your head ache now, can you?"

"Fine, let's go and sleep off our hang over's."

Jace smiled into her neck, he never really appreciated how little kisses could be so persuasive.

**See? Told you that I couldn't write smut, even when its lemonade, but oh well, my imagination wants kissing in the kitchen, I have to do it, even if I can't. **

**Not much to say this week but have you seen what's been going on twitter? Someone said that if Will (from Infernal Devices for those few who don't know) is Jace's ancestor he has to have a kid so every one's been predicting who he has a kid with. **

**Oh I, I think I've forgot to say but I have a Twitter, its, dun dun duuuun, FreakyWierd.**

**And yes, I know I spelt Wierd wrong and the i does NOT come before the e but I had already made the FF account when I realised and it's too late now. **

**GROUND BREAKING NEWS! Right, theres a little blue link somewhere in that direction and if you click on it you can do an amazing thing and leave a review! (If it doesn't show there's an arrow pointing down)**

**Cheeky I know but oh well.**

**Ooo, one last thing, I know I don't really leave recommendations but this ones amazing and it a must read. It's called ****Covert Casanova, by ddpjclaf and its about a type of secret agency type thing and Jace and Alec and Izzy have been asked to try and infiltrate this lawyers thing to try and bring him down by going after the lawyers daughter. It's, well its like, wow. You know?**

**R+R **

**FW :-{D**


	7. Chapter 7Past to Present

_The main market street in the area was filled with people either rushing around, bags with straining handles swinging from their forearms or milling around peacefully, strolling in and out of shops, pressing their noses against the shop windows or chatting in the middle of the street, standing in peoples way. The paper in her hand fluttered as her hand shook with nervousness; she glanced up at the recently painted door, a nice mellow blue, she could still smell the chemicals lingering. Gulping down her fear Clary stepped up to the door that was attached to the bookstore next door and knocked. A woman in her late fifties answered, brandishing a feather duster and a can of furniture polish._

"_Yes? Can I help you?"She looked Clary up and down inquisitively._

"_I'm looking for Luke Garroway, is he here?"_

"_He's working in the book shop dear, just look around for him he'll be in there somewhere."_

"_Thanks."Clary told her. She walked towards the book shop as the maid closed the door. As Clary stepped through the door into the murky bookshop a small bell tinkled. The bookshelves that filled the shop reached to the ceiling, each one over flowing with books. The lights were soft and it was warm in there, Clary was relaxed and comfortable here. She wandered around the shop until she spotted a tall lanky man on a small ladder reaching down into a cardboard box at the ladders feet and stacking them on the shelf, reorganising them as he did._

_Clary walked over to him and coughed, "Excuse me, are you Luke Garroway?"_

_He turned and looked at her little twelve year old self. He crossed his arms over his chest, "Yes, can I help you?"_

_She held a hand out to him, he raised an eyebrow but shook it anyway, Clary told him, "My name is Clarissa Fairchild, and my mother sent me here for you to train me."_

_A moment of shock crossed over his face, then he looked pleased, "Why don't we talk in the back?"_

_Shocked with the suddenness of his acceptance of her presence she followed him. She didn't know how her mother and Luke knew each other but he seemed happy to hear from a woman who had, to most, disappeared. Luke led her through the bookshop and into his home through a door behind the counter. It led into a small living room, with a squashy looking couch and two big armchairs, one facing the couch. Luke relaxed into the chair and gestured to the couch, Clary sank into the cushions and watched him. "So," He said, "Why do you need training?"_

"_A...man, if you can call him that, has been sending demons after us. We've been attacked three times already, so my mother decided that it was best for us to split up, it was getting too easy for him to find us. I'm staying at the orphanage in the city for now. She said to come here after school for training."_

"_Tell her hello for me."_

_Clary nodded, "Of course."_

_Luke leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and warned her, "Training will be tough; you do know what I am, don't you?"_

"_You're a wolf, I know."Clary's mother had told her that downworlder's could be trusted, but they still are dangerous, and should be approached with caution. But Luke was safe, and that Clary could trust him with her life._

"_Well, we'll start training tomorrow," the suddenness of Luke's acceptance surprised her; she hadn't expected it to be that easy. What she had expected was her grovelling on her knees begging him to train her._

"_What?" Clary said shocked, "Tomorrow?"_

"_Yes, is there a problem?"_

"_So, you'll train me?" She asked, she felt as if she was slow for not catching on._

"_Of course, you are your mother's child. You look a lot like her, so I will train you."_

_Clary sighed with relief. She hadn't even wondered what she would do if he had said no, even if the reasons he was training her for were vague and confusing. _

"_Well," He smiled kindly at her, "Why don't you let me show you the garden."Luke stood and led Clary into a corridor and out into the garden. Luke explained, "The shop and house are one bungalow, and this is the garden."_

_It was a Japanese garden, with a pond flowing into a little stream which circled the garden and little hills. There were three trees in the garden near the back. The place was filled with flowers; their scent filled the air with a sweet scent mixed with thyme and lavender. It was a gorgeous garden. A twenty foot wall surrounded it, blocking the view of the second story windows of the other buildings. Clary couldn't even hear the hustle and bustle of the street._

_Clary turned to Luke, "You have a beautiful garden."_

"_Thank you," He looked across the garden with pride, "I've spent many years working on this garden, and it's also the perfect place for training."_

_Clary nodded, seeing why, Luke carried on, "We can also carry out research in the book store."_

"_I can help, with the bookstore if you need me to," Luke smiled, amused, down at her. "Luke," She asked, "Have you ever trained anyone before?"_

_Luke looked her in the eye, "I had a pack once, I used to teach the little ones how to fight here." His tone told Clary not to ask any more questions._

_He led her back into the house, "Well, this is the living room, the TV is getting repaired." He gestured to the empty stand. He led her through to a kitchen, "This is the kitchen, through here," He opened the door, "This is the bathroom. This door is my bedroom, I must ask you to refrain from going in there-,"_

"_Of course," Clary interrupted, "I respect people's privacy. Unlike some at the orphanage," She added on bitterly._

_Luke crouched down, "Hey, when do you have to be back at the orphanage?"_

_Clary shrugged, "I'm supposed to sign in after school was over but mum told me to come straight here."_

"_Okay, how about I make you something to eat?"_

_Clary looked at him through her eye lashes, "You won't call them?" She said suspiciously._

_Luke smiled and shook his head, "No, but I'll warn you, you have to behave and do as I say or I'll call them."_

_Clary shook her head troubled, "Oh no, I won't cause any trouble, I swear it!"_

_Luke smiled, "You best not, hey, answer me this, what I am going to train you to do, what will you use it for?"_

_Clary blurted her answer before thinking, "I'm going to fight the demons that keep coming after me and my mum!"_

_Luke smiled ruefully, "Think about it; answer me when you think you've thought about the question. But let me warn you now, I'm not much of a good cook."_

Clary's eyes opened suddenly. Being ripped from the memory her dream showed her. She lay there, looking up into a white spotless ceiling until she realised where she was. Jace's head rested on her stomach, her arms wrapped around him, his arms wrapped around her waist like she was his teddy. She was wearing the shirt he was wearing yesterday; it was soaked with the sweat her dream had caused to cover her.

Somehow, with strength she didn't know she had, she managed to detangle herself from Jace. She'd known Jace had a big head but _Jesus. _They were in her room, well; the room that Isabelle had told her was hers. Clary wanted to stay here; she just wondered how others would react. She could tell how Jace would react, as she shed his shirt she glanced over her shoulder at him, that guy was insatiable. Well, let's just say she wasn't complaining.

Inside the bathroom she started the shower and then raided the cupboards. If she was right about Isabelle, they would be stocked. She was right. Isabelle had put two tooth brushes still in their packets in along with toothpaste, a box of pills, headache tablets, a box of condoms, and a hairbrush. Knowing Isabelle the brief amount of time that she had, Clary could guess that every rooms adjoining bathroom was filled with the same stuff. Isabelle was a perfectionist.

The shower had soap and shampoo and conditioner. Clary would have to thank Isabelle; she had given Clary all of the things she would need to wipe away the memory of her dream, which was a memory. As Clary stepped under the hot shower water that shed steam as it fell, she wondered if that made sense.

Ten minutes later she still hadn't forgotten. Clary ran her nails through her hair and along her scalp, remembering all that Luke had done for her, how he had taught her so much and she had thrown it back in his face, and for what? Her mother was dead and she still wanted to run. Self hatred filled Clary as she stood in the shower; she had betrayed everyone's trust when she made the call. She hadn't even told her mother what she had done. Clary didn't exactly regret that she had done it. She just hated herself for it.

Clary froze as she realised something. She should stop pretending to be someone else and just accept who she was. She stopped the water and stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around her. She refused to look at herself in the steamed mirror as she opened the door and leaned against the doorframe as the sight in the room sent any worrying thoughts from her mind.

Jace, stood in the middle of the room buckling the belt on his jeans, turned around to her. His sleepy gaze seemed to caress her as he dragged it up and down her. His gold eyes glinted in the sunlight streaming through the window as they met her eyes. If she could freeze that moment there she would have loved to sketch his eyes with all the different golden hues. This was Jace, comfortable and confident in his skin. He knew what he was, he was a cold killer, he may not like who he was but he knew who he was, and he wasn't trying to be anyone else. Why couldn't Clary be like him, happy? Such a simple word, meaning so much.

They stood there, looking at each other from across the room. Clary didn't know what he was thinking, but she was figuring him out. Jace wasn't bad, or even that cold hearted. His destiny, his purpose in life, if that even mattered, was to bear the weight of others. Do what was hard to do. They were similar in that concept, except Clary had only had to do that once. She hadn't liked to be the leader, she hated having to make hard decisions to benefit others, but she had. That was just a few months in her life, but it was all of Jace's. He was a natural born Hunter, to kill demons, to better the world by committing evil acts, like murder. He knew that, anyone he met knew that, she knew that, and she was jealous, because despite that fact he was happy with himself. He was the lesser of two evils.

Jace broke the silence first, "I think that we slept out hangovers off."

Clary smirked, looking through the window, a late afternoon sun filtered through the window. "You know," She sassed, noticing the glint in Jace's eye, "I don't recall the sleep being all that peaceful, it seemed to be interspersed with sex."

Jace's eyes hooded as he dragged that gaze of his over Clary again, making her feel like he might as well as be running his hands all over her, "You need to get out, don't you?"

Her gaze cut to him, but she couldn't be bothered lying to him, "Yes, it feels I've been locked here for weeks."

Jace nodded thoughtfully, "Meet me in the kitchen, we're going out for dinner." Clary's jaw dropped as she watched him walk towards the door while he buttoned his shirt, where in the world did he get off ordering her around like that? She opened her mouth to tell him as much when he paused and turned, looking at her thoughtfully. "Oh, and another thing," He strode towards her and gently cupped her face, his lips crashed with hers in a passionate kiss. His warm lips seemed to spread fire down her, she wound her arms around his neck and when they finally broke apart, their breaths coming out as gasps. He whispered in her ear, "You dropped your towel."

He snickered as he broke away from her, looking up and down her lazily for the third time, his face, serious for once, conveyed to her how much he liked what he saw. His burning gaze seemed to pin her in place and only when he turned for the door did she grab her towel off the floor and lob it at him. She yelled, "Smug little fucker!"

As he opened the door he looked at her over his shoulder, "There's nothing little about me," and winked at her as the door closed behind him leaving a stunned naked woman behind.

Clary sighed heavily and shook her head at nothing in particular. She wondered if Isabelle was a psychic as Clary opened her wardrobe and laid eyes on the bags from their previous shopping spree. Isabelle seemed to be a firm believer in shopping therapy and she had big wads of cash to back her up. When she told Clary that she wanted to buy her a dress for her party, they came home with three dresses, one being the said party dress, two pairs of designer jeans and five handcrafted tops, the only ones in the world. That was just what Isabelle had bought Clary; she had bought herself thrice as much more.

Now it seemed as if Isabelle had known that Jace would be taking her out on a date. Neither of them had talked about it, the first time they had slept together had been somewhat of a drunken mistake. But Clary wouldn't mind if they had a few more. She liked Jace, a lot. Due to the fact that Clary had been looking over her shoulder most of her life, she hadn't really been attracted to anyone in particular. She wasn't exactly the most attractive girl either, she was small and had a flat chest, but when she wanted to snag a man he wouldn't be able to keep his hands off her. Jace was, well Jace. Clary suspected that he rarely wanted girls; he just got them thrown at him by their own volition.

Emotion rushed through her body at that thought. She frowned as she pulled on some jeans and a top. It was a rare emotion for her and one quite nameless for her.

When she was dressed she went looking for Simon. She hadn't exactly been there for him; he had been beat up and run over. Guilt flooded her; the truth was she had forgotten about him. As soon as Jace had her on her own he was the main priority. And when he left all of her priorities were fucked up. Realising she was going into a bout of self loathing she walked faster to his room.

Standing in front of the wooden barrier between her and Simon she listened intently for voices. Only ones in there had the quality of the TV. Clary rapped her knuckles on the door and heard Simon to tell her to come in.

She opened the door and peered her head around; he was sat in the middle of the bed, pillows stuffed around him with mountains of blankets on top of him, his focus was on the TV to the side of the bed. Clary smiled tentatively at the sight of his purplish complexion, anger at the demons that did this to her Simon simmering. She walked in and sat in the chair beside him and asked, "You feel any better?"

Simon shrugged nonchalantly, "Magnus took me off the drip and subscribed me painkillers. The guy's a licensed doctor," he shook his head, his floppy brown mop falling into his eyes; "Someone who wears enough glitter to drown himself should not be a licensed practitioner."

Clary snorted, "Yeah well..."

"So," Simon said, by the tone of his voice, Clary knew he was going to get at her, "What've you been up to lately?"

"Isabelle's party was good; I got in touch with the old business partner Meliorn."

Simon winced, he sighed, "So, why'd you get absolutely hammered?"

Clary shrugged, copying Simon's nonchalance, "Because I wanted to forget my mother died and what I did."

Simon nodded thoughtfully, "What are you up to later? I need some form of rescue from Isabelle; she's like a bloody mother hen. Ever since Alec and Magnus left she's been worried she's doing something wrong and I have been subject to her torture! Just look at me, I feel like I'm trapped with all these blankets."

"Oh, yeah, like you don't enjoy her satisfying your every need."

Simon shrugged, "Not my _every _need."

"Simon!"

"What?" He looked at me with big brown eyes saying _I'm innocent! What could _I _possibly do wrong! Look at me!_ He gave her a quick grin, "So any who, how about tonight? We could play tig using the institute as our playground."

Clary rolled my eyes at him, "No. I'm sorry Si, I know I haven't been a good friend lately; I'm just a bit messed up right now. Besides, you're in no condition to play tig."

Simons eyes grew worried, "You're dealing. I know you; you'll get through this in your own way. You might not talk about it, but you'll find a way."

"Do you?"

"Hmm?"

"Know me, I mean. Do you know me? Sometimes I feel like I don't know myself. Like I've lost myself in all of the different people I've had to be."

Simon smiled, "You're a mystery to everyone Clary. So anyway, was that a no to tig, or to the night?"

Clary bit her lip ruefully, "Sorry, I already have plans."

"Oh," Clary nearly groaned at the curiosity in his tone, "So, what have you got planned?"

Clary thought about it, "You know what? I'll tell you once I've got back." Clary knew that Simon wouldn't like her relationship with Jace. Simon had been with Clary through some of her worst moments, she showed him how strong she could be, but also how fragile. On those three times she had collapsed, her fragility had scared him and now he was overprotective to say the least.

"Fine," Simon said, "So, what else is on your mind?"

"Last night I dreamt of the first time I met Luke."

Simon reached across for Clary's hand. She gave him her right and he said whilst rubbing the pad of his thumb across her small freckled knuckles, "It's been four years Clary. Don't you think it's time?"

Clary's shoulders sagged, "I don't know if I can handle it. I'll have to tell him what I did, that's if he hasn't figured it out yet already," She gave a world weary sigh.

She frowned as his thumb stopped circling and glanced up, he was frowning at her bandaged arm, "What happened to your arm?"

"Oh that? I slipped on a popped basket ball and there was broken glass on a wet counter which I tried to steady myself on. Clumsy me."

"Don't worry, your clumsiness is endearing."

Inside, she winced. Why did Simon have to be in love with her? "I have to go, Si. See you tomorrow. We'll hang out, I swear."

Simon dismissed her with a pleased smile, his attention already returning to the TV. Back out in the corridor, Clary leaned against the wall and closed her eyes, just to gather her thoughts. She needed to get control of the situation, and fast. If she didn't catch who ever this was and figure out what their motives were, she was only going to carry on digging her grave deeper.

Clary walked back to her room, ignoring her growing hunger, there wasn't any point in eating now. She froze when she opened the door of her bedroom, Isabelle threw an annoyed glare over her should at Clary; her inky black her swishing at her movement.

"Where the hell have you been?" Isabelle demanded, hands on hips.

Clary frowned, "What do you mean? I was just checking in with Simon."

Isabelle glanced at the watch wrapped around her wrist, "You only have half an hour to get ready! If my brothers dating you, the least I can do is make you look good." She looked at Clary's clothes, her expression dismayed, "Please tell me you weren't going to go on a date in _casual _clothes."

Clary looked at her clothes self-consciously, "No, I was going to wear one of the dresses you bought me the other day."

Isabelle strode to Clary's wardrobe and looked over the two dresses hung up. She sighed, "They'll do I suppose. I'll have to take you to my designer some time during the week. Wear this one," She pulled a knee length dark purple satin dress out, "It will match your shoes." Clary had the sense that Isabelle loved the fact that Jace had his eye on Clary because it gave her the excuse to treat Clary like a life size Barbie, a short ginger life size Barbie...with freckles.

Clary was thankful, Isabelle, while annoying and imposing, didn't dress her up hooker style and dressed Clary in her own style, modest but sexy.

Isabelle pulled a silver case from the floor beside the bed that Clary hadn't spotted earlier. It looked like it held multiple deadly weapons or a ton of money, but when she flipped the latches and opened it; it held more makeup than a beauty college owned. Racks and racks of lipstick, eye shadow, and mascara unfolded when she opened it. Clary was surprised at how much the case could hold.

As Isabelle worked on her eyes the silence pressed down, so Clary decided to make conversation, "So, how'd you get in the Hunters?"

Isabelle frowned, "It was my great grandparents actually, they were caught during the great robbery. That's how my family refer to it. They tried to rob the bank of the Puo, they had millions on their backs but they were caught before they could spend it. Big shame really. Then their kids decided to make an honest impression out of the name Lightwood and saved their money, giving it to their kids who saved it. It landed on Alec and I, god knows what Alec's doing with it, probably saving to hand down to his or my kid's, but _I_ decided to build this place."

Clary whistled, "That must have been some heritage."

Isabelle smirked then stood back to admire her handiwork, "There, that's it I think."

Clary turned to look in the mirror, she liked what she saw. Isabelle had given her a regal beauty this time. Clary looked up at Isabelle, giving her a dazzling smile. "Thanks Iz."

Isabelle smiled kindly down at her. Clary thought that over time, with effort, both of them could be joined at the hip. It was rare that Clary got to be so close to someone like that.

Isabelle clapped a hand to her forehead, "Damn, I almost forgot!" She hurried back to the bed and her bag. She rooted around in it and pulled out, unmistakably, a thigh holster.

"You've _got _to be kidding!" Clary stood up and backed away.

Isabelle frowned at her, "Of course not. You're not going to have a bag and you need a weapon. The only place you can hide it is up your skirt," She threw the holster at her with the dress, "Go into the bathroom and put them on, you'll feel more comfortable with a weapon next to you."

Clary sighed, "I don't really have a choice in this do I?"

Isabelle considered her, "No, you just not prepared to use your looks that way. Now shoo. We only have fifteen minutes and I want to curl your hair a bit."

Resigned, Clary plodded of into the bathroom. Once the door had closed Clary leaned against the bathroom counter and looked at herself hard in the mirror. She wasn't really the thigh holster kind of girl, but who was she to say that? She hadn't even worn one before. Plus she could all too easily imagine Jace's delight at his discovery; he was bound to discover it sometime in the night.

She shrugged, she might as well as wear it, where was the harm? She stripped and looked at the thigh holster from arms length away, dangling it from the tips of her fingers. Gulping, she slipped it on and buckled the two straps on. She expected it to slide down her leg, but some sort of soft plastic on the inside of the straps clung to her skin. That done she tightened them just in case and then slipped the dress on.

Not wanting to confirm how ridiculous and awkward she felt by looking at herself in the mirror Clary walked back into the bedroom. Isabelle was lounging back on the bed holding a compact mirror and touching up on her lip gloss. She looked at Clary and gave her the once over. "Now just the accessories, we have to cover that bandage up. Did Jace do that? He's terrible at first aid."

Clary should have expected that Isabelle's version of accessorising was not the same as hers. They travelled through the whole of the institute, allowing Clary to adapt to walking with a gun strapped to her right thigh, to Isabelle's tower, where the whole of the top floor was her wardrobe. Clary struggled to close her gapping jaw at the sheer mass of clothes.

"Now," Isabelle explained as she stood Clary in the middle of it all and grabbed random pieces of jewellery and held them to her and then threw them on the floor, "_This _necklace," She placed a necklace that looked like a piece of royal jewellery around Clary's neck, "can record any persons face if you press the diamond to the right of the main one."

Isabelle started looking at belts. After deciding on a thin black one as she tied it around Clary's waist she informed, "Careful you don't stab yourself with the pointy bit on the buckle, it injects a sleep poison so if anyone tried to grab you twist so you jab them with it."

Clary was stunned with how Isabelle had imbued all of her accessories with weaponry, Clary just thanked her. She gave her some silk gloves that went to her elbow, she didn't feel like a fool in them either, they made her arms look long and her movements look graceful. Finally Isabelle slid a bracelet onto Clary's wrist; its crystal covered side matched the necklace. Isabelle pulled on it, all of the tiny crystals parted to reveal some sort of elastic that was tying all of them together. Isabelle explained, "That elastic that ties them? It's tested at something around the weight of a mini cooper."

"My god," was the best response Clary could come up with. "Wow Isabelle this stuff's amazing!"

Isabelle looked pleased, "I wouldn't be surprised if you need it though, Jace attracts trouble like he attracts women." At Clary's loaded glance she smirked, "Don't worry, Jace never pays them attention. Now go, he'll be waiting for you."

"Thanks Isabelle, I owe you one."

"Its fine, I like dressing you up."

"I knew it."

"What can you expect, your size, you're the toy my parents never bought me. Plus you put Jace in a good mood, so..."

Clary rolled her eyes at Isabelle, its shocking how actually unspoilt she was despite the fact she had everything she wanted. Clary suspected that Isabelle main priority was her family.

Clary walked towards the kitchen. It felt strange wearing the thigh holster, like a little gremlin was hugging her thigh. The thigh without the holster felt strangely light. As she walked into the kitchen she caught a whiff of bleach, reminding her of the party. She smiled remembering playing shots with the bartender.

Jace was leaning against the counter; he was on his phone, texting, with his free hand in his pants pocket. Anyone say hunka hunka? He was in a black suit; his white shirt was open slightly at the top, showing the chain at his throat. As Clary stepped in the kitchen he looked at her and put his phone in his pocket, looking her up and down appreciatively.

She crossed her arms across her chest, "You know this checking me out has got to ease up, you make me feel like a menu." Jace smiled and walked towards her.

He stood right in front of her so she was breathing in his scent, her breaths became deeper, he leant down so his mount was pressed against her ear, "Well, we have a problem there, because I like what I see too much to stop."

Clary moaned slightly as he started kissing along her throat, "Well, it makes me feel like some sort of possession."

"Don't you want to be mine baby?"

He stopped kissing her as she shook her head. She wrapped her hands in his golden locks so he couldn't pull his head away as she whispered, "You could try to own me, but all before you have failed. I'm a wild thing Jace."

Jace growled in her ear, pressing his hands into the small of her back to bring them closer, "I would never take _ownership _of you, make you a possession, like an object I would get bored with eventually. I would make you part of me, Clary. I _have _made you part of me, and plan to again in the future. I would right here if I didn't want to ruin that lip stick covering your lips. Besides, that would ruin my plans."

He pulled away from her then, smirking at her as she tried to control her breathing. She cleared her throat and ran her fingers through her own curly locks, "So, dinner?"

Jace grinned at her, "Come on." She followed him through the kitchen and outside, staring at his shoulders and trying to imagine his reaction if she jumped him. The night was dark, but not that cold. The small breeze brushing her legs felt quite nice, but it felt so much like how Jace had tickled her legs when they were supposed to be sleeping through their hangover.

In the garage Jace chose a sleek black sports car. He held the door open for Clary, keeping their eyes locked as she climbed in. It made Clary's heart beat fast and a faint flush spread across her cheeks. He climbed in next to her and started the car. As they drove they didn't speak, they didn't turn the radio on, and they were both comfortable in the darkness of the car side by side, the faint glow of the dashboard allowing Clary to sneak peeks of Jace from the corner of her eye. She settled back in her seat, completely relaxed in Jace's presence. She loved it when he drives; his movements were fluid, as if it was a second nature for him to drive. Even going at speed down the winding country lane that led to the lightwoods institute, never once did the car wobble or seem uncertain of its course.

Jace took Clary uptown; the streets went from dark and wooded, to urban, to downtown then to the glimmering lights of uptown. The class oozed from everything here, even the lampposts on the streets were prettier, cleaner, better maintained than those downtown. Jace pulled straight into the parking lot of a restaurant that wreaked upper class. The only time Clary had ever been any place uptown was when she was conducting business. Jace and Clary got out of the car, which was parked neatly in the nearest spot to the restaurant front. Jace entwined his hand with Clary's and waved to the confused valets stood at the front of the restaurant as we past. They glared back at him, clearly annoyed by the fact he had completely bypassed them to avoid the luxury of not being able to park your own car.

Clary giggled at them and glanced over her shoulder at the beautiful car. It sat patiently in its little spot. If Clary squinted just slightly, it seemed like it was pouting at their retreating backs, leaving its engines to cool and waiting for them to come back and play with it. Outside the restaurants front a huge line of people waited patiently to be allowed through the gates of heavenly food which was going to be insanely expensive. Jace walked, dragging Clary slightly along with him, up to the bouncer. He took one look at Jace and looked the other way as he let them through the restaurants door.

Right ahead there was a counter that held a sign saying, _Please wait to be seated. _There were five groups waiting in the little area, one of whom was giving the girl an earful.

"-No, you don't understand! We booked a table for half past, we're right on time and you tell us our tables been given out already! We have to be somewhere else within two hours! I refuse to move!"

"I'm sorry sir but if you aren't here by the correct time or earlier we will give your table away. You arrived at thirty three minutes past, it is now thirty five minutes past, and we cannot allow customers to wait when a free table is open because the people who reserved it are tardy! I will have to ask you to return to the back of the queue or I will have to ask our doorman to escort you out!"

Everyone assembled at the front of the podium that said _Please wait until you are seated_ turned to look at 'the doorman'. Clary whispered to Jace "That's one buff doorman."

As the man started to argue with the waitress again Jace stepped forward, "Kaelie," All it took was that one word. The waiters blue eyes snapped to Jace and she smiled at Jace dreamily, completely ignoring the man whose voice was growing increasingly strained.

Kaelie turned to the man, "Excuse me, but I have to seat a reservation which has arrived _on time._" She turned, Jace and Clary trailed after her, walking through the soft murmurs of the bright restaurant, ignoring the curious glances that were sent their way as they walked towards the roped stairway that held a sign saying _VIP_. There were two men on this one, they took one glance at Jace and pulled the rope back, allowing Kaelie to lead us past them.

Kaelie led us up the stairs and onto the landing. There was a single door, and over it a neon sign glowed _Taki's_. Kaelie held the door open into a dim and drab diner bar. As she led us to a booth we passed all sorts of downworlder's, the place wasn't too full and the silence pressed down, unlike the constant soft hum that was in the main, nicer restaurant.

We sat down and Kaelie smiled, bringing out a note pad, "Can I get you two anything to drink?"

Jace said, "I will start off with what's on tap."

"Best white wine please."

She left and Clary leaned forward on her elbows, "Very VIP. What was wrong with the upper class poshness of downstairs?"

Jace made a face, "To mundane for me, too full. Besides, there was bound to be a few demons in all of that lot."

Clary snorted, and said in a wise voice, "Ah, to understand your enemy, you must _be_ them."

Jace grinned, "Been there, done that."

"Really?"

"Yep, unlike my adopted siblings, I gained my place in the Hunter ship."

"What were you, assassin?"

They both stopped talking as a widely smiling Kaelie returned with a bottle of wine and wine glass and a pint of beer. That feeling Clary had earlier rose again, she really didn't like this girl. Clary didn't know what emotion this was, just that she didn't care.

Once Kaelie left once more, Jace took a drink and said, "Ahh, the manly stuff."

Clary lifted her eyebrows, "Really lumberjack?"

"What?"

"Never mind, so, spill, how did you get in?"

"Nope," He said, shaking his head, "I'm not going to be the only one spilling."

"Fine, I'll spill if you spill."

"Okay. I was not an assassin, I was a computer hacker."

"Honestly? That's it."

Jace smiled softly at her, "I stole lots and lots of money. But, woe and behold, I was too good. They didn't know enough to pursue me so they just closed the case and created new software and spread their figures over many accounts. I got bored after a while so I decided to go after their money again and I got caught. I conducted a daring escaped, got caught again, but before I could direct another yet spectacular escape the Hunters came and found me."

"And what did they say?"

"I quote, 'We will entertain you'."

Clary snorted. "And have they?"

"Yes," his eyes glittered, "You came to them, and so to me." Clary smiled softly. "So, now, I want your story on how you got here."

Clary raised her eyebrows, "That's your full story to why you're here?"

"I'll tell you the rest in time." He teased, the little shit.

Clary shrugged, "Fine. My mother made it very clear since I was little that my daddy was a bad man. We just...lived, up until I was twelve. We had no documents, we had to live in the rougher side of the mundane world because all the nice places asked for proof of identification, and my mother didn't know anyone good at forgeries, or how to get them mundanely." Clary winced, "She wasn't in a good place anyway, and maybe our lifestyle was better off. No one asked questions when a single mother returned home too drunk to care for her child. In my younger years my mother did anything to try to forget her past, anything but drugs. I grew up with her abusive boyfriends, dodgy associates and thieves on a weekly basis.

"But when my father first found us, she sobered right up. She realised she didn't need to forget her past, just get over it. Having Valentine as a target, or at least, Valentines minions, helped. But the tough times we had been through had made us close, created a co-dependent bond. We helped each other run from Valentine and hide. But we were too slow, and he only vaguely found out that he had produced a child with my mother before she ran, he only knew about me from the extra bed in our trailers and run down apartments. So we split up. My mother hid me in the biggest orphanage she could find, the city orphanage, and she disappeared, leaving me there.

"She sent me to an old friend to train in fighting in case Valentine realised that we had split up. But we had been forced to create identities, so I could live at the orphanage. That was my first ever identity. A year later, Valentine found me; I ran and created a new persona. He found me generally every six months, sometimes it would stretch to a year and a half, sometimes he would find me within a few weeks.

"I got sick of it. I called the shots, made a few phone calls and ended him. Four years later, it has started up again. And I'm somewhere where I have never been before, Hunter territory," Clary finished. She hadn't meant to go into so much detail, and as she realised how much she was pouring out she started to dam it all back in. She glanced at Jace; he was looking at her with curious eyes.

"I grew up in the city orphanage." He smirked, "Probably the worst case they ever had. I stole, thieved, fought, rioted; they thought I was the devil incarnate. By the time you came, I was the best car thief in the city. I learned from the best how to hack, steal and fight. I was fourteen when I was ganged into the Hunter programme. They put me in their academy and started to try and find my parents. They ran blood tests and matched them to their records." This time, his smirk was more of a painful grimace, "I found my granny."

Clary smiled devilishly, "Who is it?"

"Inquisitor Herondale."

Clary's jaw dropped, "I've met her! I can't imagine your granny baking cookies."Jace shook his head as if he was trying to clear the image from his mind. "So," Clary pressed, "What's your name?"

Jace huffed, "The woman who ran the orphanage named me Jonathan Morgenstern. Morgen is the family dynasty the founded the place and technically, they owned me. When I first joined the Hunters and met Alec and Izzy, their parents officially adopted me and my name turned to Jace Lightwood. You understand from my experience at the orphanage why I don't like the name Jonathan. Then when I found my actual bloodline, Maryse and Robert encouraged me to change my name to Herondale, something about feeling like I belonged. I took their advice but..." He shrugged. "Doesn't matter anyway, names have lost their importance to me, now I know how easily they are changed."

Clary frowned, "I thought your name is Morgernstern, you said the orphanage owners were Morgen."

"Oh it was. The nanny at the time was drunk, and thought of how stern the Morgen's were. I guess anything can happen when you're drunk." His gaze was intense as it locked onto Clary's and it made her heart beat fast. "Let's order." Was it her or did his voice sound unsteady?

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	8. Chapter 8When the Fight is Right

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Clary looked beautiful. Despite the VIP section of Taki's being shabbier than the actual restaurant; they still had candles on the table. The light spilled onto her face, making it glow soft gold. "So," Jace said, "tell me about Valentine, what happened to him."

She raised her eyebrows, "I was twenty one, he hadn't found me in a while, and I was doing well. I loved my life, my friends, my home, and once again he made me run from it all. I put my foot down. I had been talking to the vamp called Raphael and this fay called Meliorn, I think Isabelle went out with him; they both knew my mother and were urging me to deal with Valentine. They believed that I was the only one able to stop him."

"You didn't want to at first did you?" Jace asked catching on to the unwillingness she must have felt at the time, the conflict inside her.

Her green eyes seemed to glitter, "No. I didn't want to be a murderer. But when he took my life away _again_ and I had to run _again_ I didn't go far this time. I called Raph, told him what to do. They met me, Raph and Mel with some friends, we tracked the demons from my old home, and once we found them we... convinced them to tell us Valentines position. It was a cold night, and it was clear where he was, his demons had lit a fire in a bin to get warm. We approached him openly.

"He knew who I was as soon as he saw me; he'd been chasing me for over fifteen years after all. I told him to back down, he said," She gulped, "Something like me and my mother was his, and he never let what is his go. He _owned_ us. That's when I killed him."

Jace leant back in his seat, "_Jesus_."

Smiling, Clary looked around, "Where?"

Jace smiled, "So, what made you do it when you obviously didn't want to?"

Clary smiled, looking at her hands where her plate had been, "That's the thing. I wanted to. I wanted to find him and rip him and his minions to shreds. I was so angry back then. It scared Simon a lot. But I had been taught by Luke and my mother not to hurt others, that's what Valentine did. And I never want to be like him. That's what haunts me to this day. Even when I was killing him, Valentine seemed _pleased_ with me. I think that this whole cat and mouse game was to snap me sometimes. And he did."

Jace knew what she was talking about. It was strange how much they had in common, this small beautiful girl and him. "So this Luke, does he know?"

She shook her head, "The next day, I realised how badly I betrayed him, completely going against his teachings. I've never spoken to him since," She shrugged. "So, tell me about you."

Jace snorted, "What about me?"

"Anything... tell me, tell me about your hardest case." She insisted.

Jace sighed, thinking about all of the cases under his belt, "This is probably the hardest, but so far? There was this demon who was hell bent of revealing the cults to the world. They like their privacy, anything mundane they hate. Can you imagine what they'd be like with paparazzi on their heels? A lot was riding on me, and this was before Alec and Izzy had got their badges yet. Well I was chasing them down this street, and the damndest thing happened."

"What?"

"He fell down a man hole." Jace finished as the waiter plopped dessert in front of them. He picked his spoon up and looked at Clary. Their eyes met as she gathered a dollop of whipped cream on the end of her finger and sucked it off. Jace's jaw dropped and she burst into laughter. That was when he saw them.

Their eyes met, but he knew that this time, his weren't filled with lust but warning. She slid off her seat just as the first bullet smashed her wine glass into shatters in front of her. Jace had his gun out and took the guy out, ducking under the table as he did. He whacked his chin on the table as he went.

"Ah shit!" He said, grabbing it. Clary was there, eyes wide.

"Are you okay?" She was _still_ here!

"Yeah, yeah, get out of here."

"Yeah, okay." I was still crouched under the table as people screamed and panicked in the restaurant. There was a rush to the door where the demons tried to stop the flow of blood of their friend. Jace frowned; he didn't know that demons cared that way, strange.

Clary was still clutching his arm, he turned to her, exasperated, "Clary, I got your back, let's go!"

She was in shock, he realised. He took her face in his hands; it was strange seeing the side of his gun pressed to her small sweet face. "Clary, look in my eyes." She did, "I am going to get you out of here, but we need to move."

She nodded and crawled out from under the table and towards the bar. Clever, there would be an emergency exit in the kitchen. Jace popped his head up, three of the six guys, seven if you include the demon down, had moved away from the exit and started to weave their way through the booths and tables. I ducked back down and scurried to join Clary behind the bar.

We nodded to each other and she made her way to the other end of the bar, to the kitchen door.

"Where are they?" A voice called.

"Not around here."

"There!" A voice yelled behind Jace. He whirled and shot the guy at the end of the bar, his gun pointed towards them. He looked at the blood spreading from his gut.

He looked back up at Jace in disbelief, Jace shrugged, "Gotta be quicker next time."

"Jace!" Clary yelled in disbelief from the kitchen door way.

Mistake. She squealed as bullets hit the space over her head and ducked into the kitchen. Jace, after taking a deep breath and shooting the guy that tried to vault over the bar, followed her. He didn't get shot, but as he ran through a bullet shot a hole into his cuff. Next to Clary he raised it to his eyes for inspection and cursed, "Damn this was one of my best suits!" Excitement and anticipation rose in his gut and adrenaline coursed through his veins. He spun out of the cover and started shooting blindly.

Small hands gripped the tops of his arms and tugged him back into the kitchen. "Jace, you really are crazy!" Clary yelled, fully out of shock now. She grabbed his hand and tugged him towards the exit. They ran for it, rushing past the abandoned stainless steel city of a kitchen and out onto the fire exit outside. The metal stairs were rusty, and shook when they rushed down them.

Someone started shooting. Jace looked up. He leant this was and that, finally saw a decent angle and shot the foot that he could see. Then he rushed after Clary who was slipping through the gate of the garden and presumably into car lot. God he really hoped it was the car lot. He ran after her and then pulled the gate closed, twisting the chain outside into the bars of the gate, tying it closed.

They ran for the car, which was around the corner. He thought he had been providing a quick get a way when he parked it so close to the entrance, but they had come out of the other end. Not a good thought. He grinned, Clary saw it, "How can you smirk. God you're infuriating sometimes," she muttered.

"You love it baby, I know it." Jace sassed.

They ran around the corner of Taki's. Next to him Clary froze, he stopped next to her and looked what had stopped her dead; it was if she had seen a ghost. There, sitting silently as if waiting for their return was Jace's beloved car. And it was on fire.

"No," Jace whispered. Almost blindly Jace reached out for Clary, "My car!" He wailed.

Clary whirled on him, "Jace! We're going to have to boost one of these," she gestured helplessly at the cars surrounding them.

He nodded; he'd seen a decent car around the corner. As they made their way there, ignoring the blazing mess behind them, Clary held onto Jace's hand tightly. They rounded the corner again just as the gate burst open. Jace swore, and started shooting as he and Clary went for cover. He pressed her against the wall and shot the first guy he got a sight of. He went for a double tap and then realised he was out of bullets.

"Shit, I've ran out of bullets!" Jace cursed. Putting his gun back on his belt and reaching for one of his throwing knives.

"Jace put your hand up my dress." Clary said, her voice sounded strange.

Jace killed the next guy with a clean throw to the heart. "Clary, you are the best girl any guy could ask for, but I don't think now is the time." Jace crushed Clary to the wall as dust and bits of concrete flew of the corner of Taki's as it was showered in bullets. Then there was a pause to reload. Jace and Clary ran to the nearest car and crouched down next to it, luckily the demons hadn't seen them.

"Jace, just do it." She encouraged, Jace rolled his eyes, rested his hand on her knee and stroked his hand up her thigh. He frowned as his fingertips encountered something, and then groaned. She was wearing a thigh holster. "I know," Clary said, "I'm sexy. Just take the damn gun."

He took a deep steadying breath and then pulled it out. He glanced up, the demons had realised they had moved and were prowling around. How the hell were they going to get out of this?

"Jace, just boost this car!" Clary whispered next to his ear.

Jace shivered in delight at her proximity but then focused, looking at the car they were using as cover, he whispered back, "It's a mini cooper, I am not being _seen in_ never mind _driving_ one of those things! They're for pussies!"

"Well, you are a pussy; you're _my_ pussy, so you are going to boost this car!" She whispered.

Jace groaned, conceding, and pulled his tool kit out. He slipped the right tool in and then realised that the valets had left the car open. Why would they close it? All around the mini were insanely expensive cars, who would decide to break into _this_ one instead of those?

Jace eased the door open, they were on the passenger side, he slipped in, climbing awkwardly over the gear stick while trying to not make as much movement, he needed to stay hidden. Clary climbed into the other seat next to him, staying low, and silently closed the door.

If this car got them out of there, he would buy every make of mini cooper ever made. After a little tug and pull, Jace got the panel under the steering wheel out. Wires dangled out like the car was being sick from their intrusion. Jace squinted; it was hard to make out the colours of the wires in this light. He managed and the car started to life with a soft purr.

He looked over to Clary, her eyes like green jewels in the night. "Are you ready?" He asked. When she nodded, he said, "Whatever you do, keep down." Then he pulled out of the space, peering over the dash board as if he was some wannabe kid who was addicted to grand theft auto. The windows shattered and for a few seconds, the whole world was shattered glass and flying bullets and dented metal.

By some miracle he got out of the parking lot and as he pulled down the street the shots became less and less until they stopped completely. He sighed and sat up straight as Clary came out of the foot well and slid into the seat, relaxing against it. Wind came in through the windows and made her curls dance across her face, she was grinning and so was he.

"Oh my, I have never been so happy to be in a car before!" She laughed.

He grinned, "Hmm, that was a rush, wasn't it."

He was watching the road, but he felt her hand on his arm. She leant in, resting her head on his shoulder, "Thanks," She sighed.

He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and kissed the crown of her head, breathing in her scent, "Let's get out of here."

Jace started to make their way back to the Institute, not thinking about anything other than the road, Clary and the thigh holster when they were passing through a quiet neighbourhood and the mini ran out of petrol. It slowly sputtered to a stop in the middle of the apartment lined road. Jace fell forward and hit his head on the steering wheel, the horn covering his wail of anguish.

Clary laughed at him. "Don't worry; there will be a break down service we can call."

Jace leaned back, "For a stolen car? Unless you're talking about the police, I don't think anyone is going to give us a lift. Come on, we're a five minutes' walk from one of our emergency holes." Jace opened his door and heaved his ass out of the seat, kicking one of the tyres as he passed, and waiting for Clary to catch up.

He watched her stride up to him in all her glory and his mouth watered. He fell into stride beside her and they made their way through the quiet urban streets. They hadn't travelled far from the city centre and pretty soon they were passing through a silent market street, shops looming like giant oppressing tomb stones on either side.

Clary pressed up closer to Jace and he put a hand around her waist automatically, they seemed to fit together perfectly. She said, "Isn't there something just creepy about shops at night. They just seem so...abandoned."

Jace knew what she meant. It was strange how a shop could be so vibrant and attractive in the day, and seem so colourless and dead at night. "Don't worry; the place isn't too far away now."

They were coming up to more of a nightlife scene now they had reached the edges of the commercial business sector. They crossed a pub that was packed. Loud music spilled out along with the crowd. A lot of people were smoking outside, the stink penetrating the air. Jace didn't pay it any attention; he was used to it from his younger years when he befriended drug addicts and chain smokers so he could sell them illegal goods.

Clary gagged and he grinned at her, ignoring the glares from them. The two of them carried on and moved onto a street that had business backing up onto it.

"Hey, look at this lads!" There was a drunken guy in one of the alleys, with his friends behind him, Jace quickly counted up six of them. They were mainly in hooded jackets and tracksuit bottoms or ragged jeans. Jace could tell from the smell that at least two of them were strung up on something.

Clary and Jace were luckily on the other side and kept walking; the apartment was just around the corner. "Hey pretty lady!" One of them slurred, they started to make their way across the street so they could intercept Jace and Clary, "Where are you off too?"

"Somewhere away from you. Who do you think you are? Curious George?" Clary sassed.

Jace said to her, "He certainly does have that primate feel to him."

One of the guys frowned, and then took a few steps forward, head jutted out, clear violent body language. "Did you just insult my friend?"

"I think he insulted you." Clary said.

"That doesn't go down with me, lady. How about this mate?" The guy drew a pocket knife from his tracksuit, "You give us the lady, we'll take her for a real night on the town, and we can let this one slide."

"I know you have this whole gangster thing going on," Jace told him, "But you just look like an anaemic wannabe who's heading straight towards homelessness."

That was it for the guy. Jace could tell from his pupils he was on something, he ran towards him like a bull, tendons in his neck sticking out as he roared, showing his rotting teeth.

Like it was choreographed, Clary slipped from Jace's arm and Jace easily knocked the weapon out of the guys sweaty grip, sidestepped the charge and used his momentum so he ran into Jace's pointed fingers, landing them right into the hollow of the guy's throat. The guy chocked and fell back.

His friends charged then. Jace grinned as more adrenaline coursed through his veins and leapt, kicking the first guy's torso up, kicking him right in his diaphragm. That guy fell to the ground gasping and winded. Jace landed and parried a punch, elbowing the closest guy in the face, twisting an arm and breaking it, it only took a few minutes and he was in a pile of groaning drunks.

He looked at Clary, who was wide eyed and impressed. He stepped over as one guy grabbed his ankle, "You're going to regret this!" He spat.

Jace leaned over and the guy flinched, "I don't think so. I've just beat you and all your pussy friends up, and I didn't even use my gun." Jace pulled out Clary's gun and pressed it to the middle of the guys head. He was crying now, silently. "All I have to do is pull the trigger, don't test me. You might not see the gun, but me killing you is _always_ just a trigger pull away, you got that?"

Without waiting for an answer Jace pushed the gun back in his belt and walked away, Clary taking his arm. As they walked he felt Clary's fingers press into his forehead at the side. When her fingers drew away, the tips were covered in his blood, "One of them got a hit in, and I think he had knuckle dusters on." She told him, biting her bottom lip. That made him hot all over.

Jace shrugged, trying to reassure her, "I won't feel it for a while; I'm on an adrenaline rush." His arm went around her waist, and he could feel the thigh holster through her dress. He growled low, hurrying faster to the hide out.

They rounded the corner; there were apartments on this street. They went to the closest, walking through the marble threshold and to the door. There was a keypad at the side of the glass doors, Jace keyed in the number and with a soft buzz the door automatically opened. Clary raised her eye brows, but she wasn't really looking around at the expensive foyer, but into Jace's eyes.

He couldn't escape her green gaze. The colour of her eyes was beautiful, a rich emerald green. At the moment they were dark and lust filled. They were in the elevator now, and as soon as Jace keyed in the floor number she rose onto her tip toes and kissed him softly. Jace kissed her back, more adrenaline already coursing into his veins at his wild thoughts. This was what it was like with Clary, one constant thrill ride, one constant rush. No matter how many times Jace kissed her, every time he did his nerve ends tingled and he was filled with a need of wanting more.

Jace deepened the kiss. She pressed up against him but they broke apart when the elevator arrived at the right floor. Jace was panting. She walked him backward, out into the foyer and then down the hall. They just didn't quite touch even though they were so close. Tension built up between them, and despite the fact they weren't touching Jace could feel Clary all over him.

Jace didn't have the key but he slid the panel of the door frame away and keyed in the number as if it was second nature. He slid it back and pressed it in three times, like he did in the office at the Institute. The door opened and both of them walked in. It was clean but a standard apartment, and despite the fact Jace had rarely been here it had a feel of lived in. As soon as the door closed on the dark apartment he grabbed Clary's waist, pulling her towards him and kissing her.

Jace thought back to all the times he and Clary had kissed and touched and loved, this time felt different. This felt more deep, it went straight to his gut when he kissed her. Jace led her to the bedroom; this apartment wasn't impressive, just an average sized bed, nice decorations. Jace had a cleaner come around and tidy the place up once every week.

Clary slipped her hands over Jace's shoulders, pushing the unbuttoned blazer off his shoulders; it fell to the floor at Jace's feet. Neither of them broke eye contact as she grabbed his belt buckle and pulled him towards her, kissing his lips once. She shucked her shoes off and backed up onto the bed. Jace followed after her, kicking his own shoes off. He crawled after her, and she lay flat on her back as he made his way from her chest and up her neck, leaving a train of kisses. His hands slid up her legs, and he growled as he felt the thigh holster hugging her thigh.

He groaned as his pants tightened, she laughed at him wholeheartedly. He smiled at the sound; he loved it when Clary laughed.

When he woke sunlight poured in from the curtains, they hadn't bothered shutting them last night. Once Clary hooked Jace, he was oblivious to everything else. And once Jace was on a high, he concentrated onto the closest thing, and last night that had been Clary. He rolled closer to her and watched her, she was beautiful. Her eyelashes brushed the tops of her cheeks and her eyes moved underneath her lids.

He wanted to kiss her, but he didn't want to wake her so he brushed her hair out of her face instead and got up. He looked through the draws, Isabelle being the obsessive shopper she was, had been forced to store clothes in our hide outs when she ran out of room in the Institute, though how she managed that Jace did not know. He wouldn't be surprised if there were clothes behind the walls.

Jace silently found a fresh pair of boxers that to him looked like normal boxers but to Isabelle would have been fine designer handmade boxers. He managed to salvage some tracksuit bottoms and then silently padded out of the room so he didn't wake sleeping beauty. He made his way into the small bathroom and looked at himself sternly in the mirror. He had a bruise with a cut on his forehead and a split lip from the fight last night, along with a bruised jaw. He was only just starting to feel the ache.

He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and brushed his teeth. He didn't feel like a shower, but he did feel like food. He walked to the kitchen; the fridge was empty except for things that can last long. He sighed and closed the fridge, bending to open the freezer. There wasn't much.

He turned suddenly as the front door handle rattled. Jace grabbed a knife from the wooden block on the counter and stood behind the island in view of the front door. It opened, and Jace got ready to fling the knife as someone came in. It was a girl around her mid twenties, dressed in casual but practical clothes; plain boring jeans and a flannel t-shirt. She gasped as she saw Jace, and he realised that from what she was seeing, he was stark naked.

Her cheeks flushed, Jace smiled charmingly, "Hi."

Her eyes bugged and she looked at him incredulously, "Who-, who are you?"

"Mr Herondale." Jace said coolly, "Who are you?"

"I'm the maid," She seemed more respectful now she knew he was her boss.

"Do us a favour, I'll give you some money, could you nip to the shop and get us a few bits and you can have the rest of the day off, paid of course." Jace added as an afterthought.

"Sure." She said uncertainly.

Jace walked past her and back into the bedroom. He picked his wallet up and then frowned, how much did it cost for a breakfast? He shrugged and filed a fifty out, Isabelle was in charge of groceries, not him. He walked back into the living room; she was still stood at the front door. Jace realised he was still holding the butchers knife.

"Here, just buy some stuff for breakfast. Bacon and eggs, stuff for a fry up. You know, just...breakfast." He shrugged.

The maid was looking at him with amusement, "Okay, I'll be back in half an hour."

"You can keep the change," He told her.

She headed out and Jace flopped out on the white loveseat in front of the TV. It was comfy, which surprised Jace. He flicked the TV on, it was on the news. Jace frowned as a photo of Taki's appeared behind the news reader.

"_And further news, an upper class restaurant was attacked by armed men last night. A high earning restaurant was assaulted when eight men attacked some patrons. Wait staff refuse to answer police questions, CCTV was destroyed before the attackers left. No money was taken, and it is detective's beliefs that the sole target of the armed gunmen was their bounty, which remains a mystery to detectives. Bobby S. Holmes reports..."_

The cameras went from the news room to a man with a microphone in his hand in the restaurant, at the bottom of the VIP stairs. He began to report, _"It was just another weekend night, and the targets entered as if it was any other date. They were escorted to the VIP section up here, which is currently restricted for the police case. _

"_Two normal people, going on a normal date, or were they? They were also armed, and they managed to put one of the assaulting men into intensive care during what seems to be the initial attack and there are blood stains belonging to five other people in various places around the VIP area. The targets of the attackers then moved through the kitchen and into this parking lot."_

He was in the car park now, and my heart bled as he gestured to the burnt wreck of my favourite car, _"Their car, neither registered nor insured, was set on fire by their attackers. This led them to another shoot out in the back of the lot which resulted in two of the attackers dying. They stole a car and managed to escape unharmed. The stolen vehicle was found late last night, in the middle of a residential street on the edge of the city limits. No images were captured of faces, no DNA fingerprinting or traces to be found. For all we know, this was a ghost attack." _

Jace tuned out as it returned to the news studio and the reporter introduced another headline. Demon attacks often cropped up on news as a headline, by the end of the day hunter operatives would have shut the case down. Jace sighed and picked up the cordless phone up, dialling Alec's mobile.

After a few rings Alec answered, "Hello?"

"Alec it's me." Jace said, picking a tiny rock from under his fingernail.

A relieved sigh, "Jace, do you know how _mental_ Izzy is going?"

"I predicted she would be that's why I rang you. I couldn't be doing with a lecture. I need you to do a favour for me."

"What? Smack some sense into you?"

"Why Alec, is that _sarcasm_ I hear from your mouth?"

"Listen, I may not be flipping out like Izzy but I-,"

"Yeah, yeah, save the drama for Magnus, you know how he likes to write play scripts. We were on the news so I need you to make a call for a cleanup."

"_Mundane _news?"

"What other news is there?"

"Okay, so you want me to call _your_ grandmother and ask her to send some people and cut the news piece?"

"Yeah."

"I repeat with even more emphasis, _your_ grandmother."

"Oh come on, she likes you better."

"This is becoming more twisted than a Desperate Housewives episode."

Jace's jaw dropped; there was just nothing to say to that. Finally he burst out laughing, "You-, you watch, you watch _Desperate Housewives?"_

Alec mutely cursed, "Magnus does, I have to watch it with him."

Jace shook his head even though Alec couldn't see him, "That _is_ twisted. Wait till I tell Izzy, bye Alec!"

"Jace wait keep your-," _beep._

Still smiling, Jace channel flipped until the maid came back. When the door opened and she came in with a Tesco bag Jace smiled kindly at her, "Thanks, you have no idea how much you have saved me, it didn't go over did it?"

She smirked, "You don't go shopping much do you?"

Jace shrugged, "I'm not the one who does, why?"

"Nothing, have a great day!" She walked back out of the room too happy for Jace's paranoia.

He shrugged, "_Mundane_." He muttered.

He carried the bag into the kitchen. Jace hadn't cooked himself in a while, but he knew how to. He was frying bacon, tomatoes, mushrooms and onions all in the same pan while scrambling eggs in another when Clary came sleepily in. Jace smiled at her appearance, she had pulled her hair into a hasty bun and had clearly ventured into the draws because she had a loose ill fitting top on of Izzy's and some leggings that reached mid calf.

"Hey," She smiled.

"Hi," Jace leaned over and kissed her softly. When he didn't immediately pull away Clary reached up and kissed him again. It was just getting interesting when the sizzling in the pan became a serious sound. Jace grinned devilishly and reluctantly pulled away, "Hope you like fry up."

"Fry up? I wouldn't have guessed a rich bloke like you knew what a fry up was."

"A fry up is a fry up, a manly thing that men eat for breakfast. None of this cereal nonsense for men."

"Don't worry," Clary sidled up beside him, and ran her hands over him, "I know you're a man." The joking expression fell from Jace's face as Clary's hand drifted down. Their bodies came closer and closer and Clary hummed, "Mmhm, so, bacon sounds nice." She said moving away as if a really hot moment hadn't been building up.

She walked past him and Jace shook his head, his grin retuning. A rustle behind him as he reached for the plates made him turn around; Clary was peeking curiously into the Tesco bag. She pulled out milk and orange juice, her eye brows raised, "Went out shopping did we?" She looked him up and down disbelievingly, and he was reminded that he _still_ hadn't put a shirt on. Sometimes, his abs' did not want the snuggles of fabric.

"No, the maid came and I asked her if she could do some shopping, I gave her some cash. She's took the rest of the day off." He explained.

"Cash? How much did you give her?" Clary asked, suddenly her expression turned down into a frown.

Confused by her mood swing Jace said, "I gave her a fifty."

"Fifty?" Clary's voice raised a few octaves.

"Why? Did I give her too much?" Jace asked.

Clary snorted, "Yeah, a tenner probably would have been plenty, twenty if you were giving her a treat for the favour."

"No wonder she left in such a good mood," Jace grumbled at being cheated. Yeah, to him fifty pounds wasn't much, but he still didn't like being cheated.

Clary smiled at him and kissed him lightly as he handed her a plate piled with fried food. They both settled onto the couch, but immediately Clary stood with a small squeak. She reached behind a cushion and brought out the butchers knife.

"Oh sorry, I wondered where that had gotten to." Jace said, taking it out of her hand and putting it onto the end table. After a few moments he realised Clary was looking at him wide eyed, "What, have I got something on my face?"

"You, Jace Herondale, are unbelievable sometimes." Without explaining further she settled back next to Jace and they ate their breakfast while they watched TV. Jace was in one of the happiest moments in his life, he knew that, but he didn't know why. He knew that for the very first time, he felt like part of a pair, part of a couple, of a partnership.

He absently kissed Clary's head as she channel surfed. She hummed and settled in further into the couch. He could stay here for an eternity.

**Thoughts? This isn't as big a chapter as the last but I'm trying to keep updates regular. I'll update asap once I have over fifteen reviews, they always make me write faster ;{D**

**FW :{)**


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